Road Trip to Hell
by sophia0401
Summary: What happens when what was supposed to be a simple road trip, one hoorah between shows, turns into something none of them could have expected when they show up at a town with a tortured past and even more tortured residents.Mickie/Randy/Maryse/Mike/John
1. One final hoorah

Okay, so I am finally back with another story. This one is a little, well a lot different for me. I've been watching a lot of "horror" movies lately, and am really into the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies so it was sort of my inspiration. Please bear with me, I haven't written anything like this before so I don't have any experience with it. AND I haven't written a story in months, so I might be a little out of practice :) I don't own any of the superstars, or anything else mentioned in this story. It's all purely fiction! Anyway, on with the story.

_Texas, 2010_

_There was nowhere left to hide. I was going to die, just like the rest of them. Perhaps that was the best thing; I didn't want to run anymore. But that would mean that his, oh god it was painful to think of him, death was in vain. He had died to protect me, to give me the opportunity to live. The least I could do was fight until I couldn't do so anymore._

"_Angela," his voice terrorized me, sending chills down my spine, "We know you're in here. I warned you that you couldn't hide from us."_

_I slowly walked the distance of the room in the direction opposite where I knew he was, pressed up against the wall; I peeked around the corner into the kitchen of the abandoned house. It looked empty, but it was dark, I couldn't be too sure. My only chance now was to bolt to the back door that was directly opposite me, the moonlight filtering in through the open door._

"_You're going to die here tonight, so why don't you make it easier on yourself. You'll be joined with your little boyfriend; I mean if that's the sort of thing you'se believe in. I personally think everyone goes to hell. I mean, that's where you belong ain't it?"_

_His voice was getting closer; I had about thirty seconds to make this decision. Where would I go? And what if he found me, maybe it was better to let the old man get the job done. But he would make me suffer, I knew he would, but he would be a better sight to look at than him while I took my last breath. With a little bit of fight left in me, I made my decision. I bolted across the kitchen and pulled the door open with an extreme amount of effort, stepping out into the sinister night. _

_But I only got a few steps before I was tackled to the ground, a sharp cry escaping my lips as I knew my time was up. I couldn't help but look into that horrible face just as he brought the knife down._

Mickie James POV – Somewhere in New Mexico

"I still don't understand why he even bothered to come," I complained, probably sounding more upset than I should have, "_And_ he invited _her_ of all people? He knows that we don't get along!" I pulled open the back door and took a seat inside, my feet dangling just above the ground.

The eye roll sent in my direction by John Cena was meant to be subtle, but I had caught it none the less. I merely added it to the list of things he did lately, that bothered me but that I pretended to ignore. John was handsome and it was certainly no secret that he was a great guy and had been a kind, caring and loving boyfriend, but somehow not even the great John Cena had been able to salvage what had become our relationship.

We had managed to use up an entire tank of gas all of yesterday, so we were only on the road for a few hours this morning before we had to stop. John said this was the last actual city for quite awhile, so stopping was critically necessary. Our last show was two days ago and Maryse and I thought it would be fun to spend our three days off on a road trip to our next venue.

Having shared the idea with Mike Mizanin, Maryse's boyfriend of three years, he expressed the same amount of enthusiasm and decided to join us, talking John into coming as well. I was like a little child on Christmas morning, excited over the fact that we rarely, if ever, got to engage in activities like this due to our demanding schedule and always being on the road. It was also extremely rare for us to be given three days off in a row, but I wasn't going to question a good thing.

So I was in my own little bubble for the past week, the smile never seeming to leave my face until Monday night, the day before leaving, John decided to finally tell me that Randy Orton was also joining us. It was a surprise yesterday morning when he showed up at the car with _the_ blonde Barbie doll – Kelly Kelly.

"I mean there's only one reason she would ever agree to get into a car with me, and that's to piss me off!"

"Why does it matter?" John asked wearily.

"Because... this was supposed to be a fun trip. And considering we were barely in the car for five minutes yesterday before we got into our first argument, I'd say the rest of the trip isn't going to be any different."

"Mickie, I know you don't get along–"

"That's an understatement," I muttered.

"–but Randy's my best friend," he spoke, almost sternly making me feel like a child. "Now let's just get through this so we can tell everyone the truth, and stop lying about it."

I turned away abruptly, trying my best to ignore the feeling of irritation growing in the pit of my stomach. John often made me feel guilty about... well everything lately, and in fact, our relationship was pretty rocky. I couldn't tell you why, but we no longer talked like we used to. It was as if we had become two robots in our relationship doing the bare minimum to make it work. It was the reason we ended things mutually, but had yet to tell our friends the bad news. Neither of us knew the right way to go about it, seeing as how everyone thought we were the perfect couple, so we had been putting it off for weeks, struggling to make things seem normal in public. It was hard, which is why we tried desperately to avoid public outings, worried that someone would learn the truth. We had agreed, for the sake of the road trip and our friendships that once we hit Chicago we would come clean and let everyone make of it what they will. This was just going to be one last little hoorah.

"Hey we got a few snacks, you guys want anything else?" the voice of Mike Mizanin, the self-acclaimed awesome one, interrupted my thoughts as he, his stunning, goddess-like diva girlfriend Maryse Ouellet and the blonde, that Orton had unceremoniously invited, approached us with a bag filled with small luxuries they had purchased inside of the gas station.

"You guys get any water?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked in their direction. It was still rather early in the morning, so the sun was just rising, but it was already sweltering out. It was crazy that it was already fall here in New Mexico. In just a few ours we would be crossing over into Texas and the weather wasn't bound to get any cooler.

Maryse shook her head, smiling apologetically as she did so, "Sorry we weren't sure what everyone wanted drink wise, so we decided to leave it up to you."

"We got a couple diet drinks for us, but nothing for you. Sorry!" Kelly insisted on telling me, a smug smile growing on her face.

"It's okay," I focused on Maryse as I spoke, "I should probably use the washroom before we hit the road. Hey Kelly, there's still time for us to drop you off at the airport. I know how much you hate drives, not that you'd know really seeing as how you're not even old enough to drive a rental car."

"Oh good one Mickie. Sorry that not all of us are as _old_ as you," she shot back before disappearing around the other side of the car.

Grinding my teeth together, I took a few steps in the direction of the convenience store, before stopping. Releasing a sigh, I slowly turned around, "You want anything?" I asked John.

There was no way he couldn't have heard me, but even though he turned away and started up a conversation with Mike.

I turned away and grumbled a string of swear words as I entered into the building and headed straight for the bathrooms, ignoring Randy who was staring at me from in front of the pepsi cooler. I was in there for maybe two minutes, trying to get back the excitement I had felt before our trip had started. I had somehow deluded myself into thinking this might actually turn out to be fun. But considering three out of the five people I was trapped in the car amongst, I didn't quite get along with; I'm thinking I definitely overestimated how great this was going to be.

Finally after practicing my 'fake' smile in the bathroom, I stepped out of the bathroom to find Randy leaning against the wall opposite the women's bathroom, next to the men's.

"To what do I owe this act of stalking?"

"I missed you," he smirked.

"That's funny, I don't feel the same seeing as how you do nothing but repulse me ninety nine percent of the time," I folded my arms across my chest.

"Hmm our little get together last week tells me different," the smirk was there permanently, it was Randy Orton's _signature_ smirk.

I scowled, "That was a mistake."

"Mistake or not, it happened. And if you don't want John to find out about it, you better start treating me with a little more respect."

"Have you forgotten that he's your best friend?"

Things had been this way between Randy and I for quite some time. I think pathetically enough, I had learned to like the attention because I hadn't been getting any from John. So during an outing last week with the rest of the roster, I got a tad bit intoxicated and woke up the next morning, naked, in Randy's bed. John and I had been broken up at the time, so I wasn't unfaithful to him, but Randy didn't know that and it didn't lessen the guilt I felt because of it.

He shrugged his shoulders, "Accidents happen. I'm sure John can understand that, and if not well hey I got a long list of other guys who would be more than happy to be my new man friend."

I shook my head in repulsion, "You disgust me."

"Face it; I know you can't stop thinking about last week."

I laughed bitterly, "That's really funny considering I can barely even remember it."

Okay that was a lie, I had been drinking but it wasn't enough that I didn't remember everything that had happened. This was just my way of not having to say anything good came out of a situation with Randy.

"That's what you say to make yourself feel better about the situation."

"So you're admitting its wrong?"

"Oh that whole situation was _so_ right Mickie. I don't have even a morsel of regret."

"Yeah well you wouldn't considering you're an insufferable asshole," I spat, "Which was proven when you decided to invite Kelly damn Kelly even though you know we hate each other! So why did you bring her?"

"To pass the time, _and_ she's hot. Are we jealous Mickie?"

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you _always_ ask me that?"

He folded his arms across his chest, copying my act, "Why do you always seem so interested in my love life?"

I scoffed, "Love life? You don't have a _love_ life, you have a _sex_ life."

"If you're jealous Mickie, just say so."

I took a few steps toward him, "I'm not jealous," I replied turning to walk away, but I was caught off guard when he gripped my elbow and pulled me into the men's washroom.

"Randy what are–" but I could no longer verbalize what it was I wanted to say, let alone string together a coherent response, as a new sensation took over my body completely.

It started in the pit of my stomach, and quickly spread through the rest of my body, all the way to the tip of my toes. My chest was feeling really tight and an overwhelming fluttering in my stomach made it difficult to breathe. I couldn't help but notice that his face was mere inches from mine and it was then I realized I was shaking slightly. There was one other time when I felt this way, last week when he and I found ourselves in this same situation.

Finally he pulled back, the smirk once more on his face, "Yeah Mickie, you don't want me at _all_," it was hard not to miss the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

I scoffed in disgust, and gave him what turned out to be a very ineffective shove before pulling open the door so hard it slammed against the wall behind it. Rushing out of the store, I hopped in the front seat and slammed the door behind me.

"Where's Randy?" John asked.

"How should I know?" I snapped before releasing a sigh, "Using the washroom I think."

"I thought you were getting something to drink."

"I'll just wait until the next time we stop," I replied, leaning my head back in the seat and staring out the window, as Randy exited the store carrying a plastic bag filled with his own purchases.

"Ready to go man?" John asked, as the Viper climbed into the vehicle behind me, and next to Kelly who had insisted on sitting in the middle seat right next to him.

"Yeah, let's get the hell on the road," Randy replied as I felt something cold touch my arm, just as John pulled back onto the road.

Looking over I noticed Randy was offering me a bottle of water from his own bag.

"You left without anything," he reasoned, "Are you gonna take it?"

I released a sigh once more, "Thanks," I said quietly as I took the bottle and instantly took a sip not realizing how thirsty I was until this moment.

"Here man," Randy tossed one up to John who thanked him, and set it down into the cup holder.

"Did you get me a water? I'll need one after finishing up my diet drink," Kelly asked, as if he should have known this.

"No," Randy responded simply, "I didn't get you one."

I had to resist the urge to laugh, as I settled back into my seat and continued staring out the window, not being able to stop thinking about what had happened back in that gas station and how messed up this entire situation was. I was sitting next to a man, who everyone else thought I was still dating when in reality our relationship had been broken months ago, and officially three weeks ago. And sitting behind me, was I man I had slept with who was known for not being able to be serious about anything. I wasn't that type of girl – engaging in sexual encounters with those I wasn't in a relationship with, so it made me wonder what the hell I had been thinking at the time. What was worse was that he was the best friend of the man I had just gotten out of a long term relationship with.

What does that say about me?

The morning turned into the afternoon as we crossed over into Texas and I, for the most part, remained quiet, reflecting upon my thoughts in those few hours while everyone else engaged in conversation to pass the time. We were now on a desolate road where we'd seen a total of maybe two cars in the last couple hours, and the drive was slowly starting to become rather boring. The only form of entertainment was Kelly spending most of the time trying to make out with Randy.

"Man, you gotta pull over. I need to take a leak," Randy said, "Not to mention this vehicle's getting a little crowded."

"How? We have the same amount of people that we started out with," Kelly pointed out, completely oblivious to the meaning behind Randy's statement.

"Precisely," I heard Randy mutter under his breath.

"Yeah I could do with some stretching," Maryse called from the back of the vehicle.

"Alright," John agreed, as he veered over onto the shoulder of the road, which happened to be simply a grassy area.

We all stepped out of the vehicle, instant pleasure when I was finally able to stretch my leg. There wasn't much around, a huge oak tree was closest, and a forest could be seen in the far distance. I could hear the faint mooing of cows but I couldn't quite make out which direction it was coming from. I breathed in the fresh air, and took a few steps in the direction of the large oak tree that branched out several meters. I leaned against it and stretched my arms, before glancing back in the direction of the car. Mike and Maryse were engaged in an intense make out session at the back of the suburban, and near the front of the car John and Kelly were laughing about something.

It was right then and there that I realized my relationship with John was _truly_ over. I hadn't even felt a hint of jealousy when Kelly reached out lightly and touched his arm in a personal way. I could tell from this distance that she was flirting, and he was doing nothing to stop her advances. It was obvious Randy wasn't doing the job to keep her entertained.

I guess John and I should have realized this much sooner, or maybe he had but he was trying to spare my feelings. Perhaps that was why he avoided eye contact more often than not – it was ridiculously clear that he had already fallen out of love with me. But it was even clearer that I had spent a long while denying the fact that I had already fallen out of love with him.

"You okay?"

The sudden intrusion on my alone time startled me, but more so created mixed feelings on how I was supposed to feel towards the man standing next to me.

I scoffed and turned away from him, taking in the view of the field in front of me, "What do you care?"

"I don't care; I'm just hoping to get in your good books so we can enjoy a repeat of last week sometime soon."

"You're pathetic, and that's something I'll _never_ get tired of saying."

"Oh as if you're any better Mickie James. You're in a relationship you clearly aren't happy in, which is evident in our little tryst last week. So who's pathetic now?"

It took a lot of strength not to hit him in the jaw, but instead I kicked off the tree and turned to face him completely, "I know that you're a liar. This means I know that you would care very much if John found out about what happened last week. So how about I go and tell him right now, come clean so to speak."

"Something tells me he wouldn't much care."

Despite my current situation, that was still a low blow.

I shook my head in disgust, "You're a dick," I hissed and stomped off towards the car, but stopped abruptly to turn back to face him, "Oh and you'll be happy to know John and I have been broken up for about three weeks now, we just haven't made it official."

His smirk faded a touch as he processed my words, "You mean you've allowed me to feel guilty this entire week, thinking that I had betrayed him?"

"I thought you didn't care?" when he continued to glare at me I sighed and continued, "You still should feel guilty, I mean we were broken up for two weeks when you and I had sex. Isn't the ex supposed to be off limits?"

"Not in my world."

"Oh of course not, Randy Orton is exempt from all the rules," I said sarcastically.

He shook his head and took a step closer, "You act all high and mighty Mickie, but last time I checked you were right there in my hotel room right alongside me."

"Just add it to my list of regrets," I spoke bitterly.

"Oh I don't know about–"

He was interrupted when a piercing scream sounded through the air coming from the direction of the car. Whirling around, about to dash back if the situation permitted, I noticed a man, dressed in dirty jeans and a black tee shirt standing next to Mike and Maryse, the latter clearly the one who had screamed. But John and Kelly were rushing back, so taking one last glance at Randy I hurried over to see what was up.

"Sorry guys, for screaming. He just sort of caught me off guard," she laughed, gesturing to the man who was now surveying us all curiously.

"Hey I'm Joe; I didn't mean to scare you. But you're the first people I've seen in hours, I got a little excited," he said with a chuckle, one that was charming and instantly made him appear easy going.

"Can we help you with something?" John asked.

"Yeah my car broke down awhile back, and as I'm sure you know there aren't very many towns nearby. I figured my best bet was to go forward, rather than going back. I saw a sign a couple miles back about a town that's about twenty miles ahead. I'm really glad I ran into you guys."

No one said anything for awhile, until Kelly spoke up, "I don't blame you. I don't know what it is about this area, but it gives me the creeps."

"I think it's kind of peaceful," I said, not completely thinking so, but finding myself extremely annoyed with the blonde bimbo who hadn't brought anything good to this entire trip.

Joe looked at me for the first time and smiled, it was almost as charming as his laugh, "Me too. But I guess that could be because I've been walking far too long," he chuckled.

"If you've been walking so long, how come we haven't seen you?" Randy asked rather rudely earning a stern look from me, but he couldn't have noticed because he was staring suspiciously at the man in front of him.

But Joe didn't seem the least bit phased by Randy's rudeness, "I haven't been walking this exact road the entire time. I turned a couple miles back and found my way here."

"You look like you could use a drink, I got a water bottle in the car if you want," John offered, quite obviously making up for Randy's attitude problem, because he threw Randy another harsh look.

Joe nodded his head, "Yeah man I'd really appreciate it."

John led him around the side of the car and they continued their conversation. We all kept a close eye on the duo, watching as they engaged in what appeared to be an amusing conversation.

"He's cute," Maryse whispered, giggling softly as Kelly nodded her agreement.

I tilted my head to the side to survey his face properly and I came to the conclusion that he was in fact easy on the eyes. His eyes were a light green color that sparkled beautifully in the sun. His hair was short, slightly curly and a deep chocolate brown and he had a hard set jaw. His smile and laugh were enough to set anyone at ease, but for some reason it unnerved me. I shook my head, and turned away, I knew it was only because he was a stranger.

"What do you think Mickie?" Maryse asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I think... he's still a stranger," I said as I watched Mike move over to join them.

"Yeah exactly," Randy said, throwing his hands up in frustration, "We have no idea who this guy is. There is _no way_ we are giving him a ride."

Just as he finished saying this, John walked over and looked at each of us in turn. "Joe needs a ride to the nearest town; I told him it wasn't up to me so I'm asking you guys."

"What's the harm, its twenty miles right?" Maryse said, Kelly agreeing with her once again.

"No it's not happening," Randy spoke firmly, "Are you guys kidding me? This is how horror movies start."

"Mike's okay with it too," John announced, "And I'll do whatever you guys think is right."

"Mickie?" Randy asked.

They all turned to look at me as I glanced once more in the direction of Joe who was still engaged in a conversation with Mike. It was as if he sensed my eyes on him, because in the next second he looked over and caught my eye contact. For some reason I felt as if I should be scared, as if instinct was telling me this wasn't a good idea, but my head didn't follow suit. Eye contact was broken only when a figure placed itself in front of me, and as I looked up I gazed into a different set of eyes, those that belonged to Randy.

"Mickie you can't be thinking this is a good idea."

"There's six of us and one of him, what harm could he possibly do?" I asked rhetorically, as I set course for the front seat, "Let's get going," I called over my shoulder. I think the only reason I really agreed was as a way to disagree with Randy because I was still angry with him.

"Fine then, but I'm driving!" I heard Randy announce.

The car ride for the next little while wasn't silent like I had expected it to be, it was just the opposite. Joe was sat behind the driver's side, with Kelly in between him and John, and Mike and Maryse in the very back. Everyone seemed to have taken a liking to him, as they listened to the many stories of his travels that he had to offer. You could tell instantly that he was a charismatic man, and thus the reason the rest had grown to like him almost instantly despite the fact that he was still clearly a stranger.

I also couldn't ignore the sideways looks that Randy kept shooting in my direction, or the ones he kept shooting in the rear view mirror at Joe. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Randy didn't trust him in the least. And why should he? This was a man we barely knew, no matter how charming he turned out to be; even the most well put together people on the outside could be completely different on the inside.

But I wasn't about to agree with Randy, not now, not _ever_.

"So buddy do you have a girlfriend?" Randy asked, interrupting a story he was telling.

"No, actually I just got out of a serious relationship. I was ready for the next step but she wasn't so we ended it. I realize now she wasn't the one."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Randy scoffed.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction, "Don't listen to him Joe. Randy here doesn't know the definition of a relationship nor has he ever found someone he thought was 'the one' because he's too much of an ass."

Randy took his eyes off the road briefly, to look in my direction. His face showed arrogance, but his eyes once more told me a different story. In them was a hint of sadness, as if what I said had hurt his feelings.

"Enough children, I'm sure Joe didn't come along for the ride to listen to your never ending arguing," Maryse said with a slight giggle.

"Hey they can do whatever they please, I'm just grateful for the ride," Joe said.

"Well it's not like we would've left you man. We may be arrogant but we aren't heartless," Mike responded, laughing.

Before anyone could say anything more, a loud explosion sounded, the car tilted violently, and skidded off to the side of the road, stopping as it collided with a tree. My head smashed into the airbag that popped out of the dash in front of me, and a throbbing sensation started in my head. The car was tilted slightly backwards and to the left, putting us at an awkward angle.

"Shit!" Randy exclaimed. "Is everyone okay? Mickie, are you okay?" he reached out to me, but withdrew back when I looked at him, confused by his actions.

"What happened?" I asked, rubbing my head and ignoring the concern I saw in his eyes.

I looked back to survey everyone else, and despite being a little shook up and dishevelled they all seemed to be okay.

"You okay?" John asked quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder to get my attention.

I nodded my head but didn't offer a verbal response.

Everyone piled out once more and it didn't take a mechanic to tell us our problem was in the form of the flat tire on the left hand side. Randy had knelt down near the back of the car, after noticing the front of the vehicle had little damage, and was assessing it as I scoured the area and looked down the road to see if I could see anyone. I still felt disappointed, despite not expecting to actually see a car, when I in fact found the road to be otherwise empty.

I put my hands on the back of my head and released a sigh, before digging in the pocket of my jean shorts to pull out my cell phone, "Anyone have a signal?" I held my iPhone up hoping to catch a signal, but nothing happened. I heard a chorus of no's as everyone checked the status of their own.

"We must be in a dead zone," Mike suggested, as he shoved his cell phone back in his pants pocket.

"Looks like we have no choice. We have to continue to that town. How far do you think it is?" Joe asked.

"About five or so miles," John answered. "It'll take us an hour or so if we're quick."

"Let's get going, I'd like to get back here before it gets dark. This isn't exactly the road trip I had in mind," I waited for everyone to catch up to me, Randy needing to lock the door, before we finally started down the road with Joe in the lead, dictating which way to go.

Everyone else collected what they needed to, and finally we were on the road in the hot sun, sharing what little water we had left. After only a half an hour of walking, I was sweating profusely and craved a cold shower. Wiping the back of my hand across my forehead, I felt eyes on me so I looked over my right shoulder and found Randy staring, but I was unable to detect what he was thinking by his facial expressions. There was nothing I hated more than when Randy got in this frame of mind, and it was next to impossible to tell what he was thinking. I couldn't honestly tell you why I cared as much as I did, but he was a man who perplexed me. But you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.

As I went to look back to the front, I caught Joe staring in my direction as well. He was no longer leading the pack, that was John's job at the moment, but he was still the only person who knew where we were going. He claimed the only reason he knew this was because he memorized the map he had before he left his car. I quickly turned and focused on where I was walking, and picked up my pace so I was walking next to Maryse.

"You're all in very good shape, keeping up a nice, quick pace. Made this trip easier," Joe commented, which I thought was a little odd.

"It's not our first rodeo," Randy offered up, "You seem disappointed."

"Now why would I be disappointed?"

"I don't know, why would you?"

Joe merely chuckled, "I don't know why you seem to have such a problem with me."

Randy shrugged his shoulders, "I don't even know you."

"Randy likes to get on peoples nerves, don't take it personally," I commented, throwing a glare in Randy's direction.

"Stop making comments like that, acting as if you know me," he hissed.

I was taken aback by his change in attitude because Randy hasn't ever taken anything I said seriously. Now all of a sudden he's sensitive about his feelings! I can honestly say that I won't ever truly understand this man in front of me, and it was the reason we could never be friends.

"Hey guys, tone it down. We're almost here, you can get some water and food in you," Maryse spoke, quite obviously trying to avoid a fight.

I slowed my pace down slightly, trying to wait for Randy without seeming obvious about it.

"Watch it Mickie," Kelly said rudely, as she ran into me.

I rolled my eyes, "Kelly it was an accident, trust me I wouldn't purposely put myself in your way. It wouldn't end well for you, and you know that."

It was her who rolled her eyes this time, and mumbled an insult that I tried my best to ignore as she caught up to Maryse.

Randy had finally caught up to me; although I'm sure he tried his best to avoid me. I placed my hand on his arm to let him know I wanted to talk to him.

I looked around to make sure everyone was out of hearing distance, "What's your problem now?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We've spent months insulting one another and all of a sudden you become sensitive? I'm not buying it."

He finally turned to look at me, "I hate it when people get involved in my business."

"Oh as if you don't always involve yourself in mine? Comments left and right about my failed relationship with John," I hissed, just loud enough to hear. "Yeah as if I need a reminder that my boyfriend fell out of love with me and my relationship is a failure."

"Mickie I don't care about your relationship with John, as far as I'm concerned it's probably the best thing that's ever going to happen to you. You deserve someone who will treat you better."

Once again his words and actions surprised me, but a moment later his face was impassive apart from looking as if he regretted what he had said.

I narrowed my eyes, opting to go for angry as opposed to surprise, "Oh rich words coming from you. You used me last week and now you won't leave me alone. We aren't friends Orton, never have been, never will be."

I picked up my pace once more and walked alongside the others in silence, until at last, after roughly another hour of walking, mostly in silence due to the overbearing heat and exhaustion, we came up to a building, that looked run down and old. It was the only building that wasn't boarded up or closed off. In fact a lot of the buildings were run down and crumbling, blackened as if a fire had swept through most of the street.

There were all kinds of litter and trash surrounding the one we had found ourselves in front of as well as a bunch of junk, such as a broken down bicycle, several barrels and broken down pieces of furniture. The paint on the building was chipped and faded and there were deep gauges in the wood, probably from horrible rainstorms over the years.

"It doesn't look open," Maryse pointed out, taking a glance in the window, "There's no one in there."

We all exchanged looks until finally Randy stepped forward and pulled the door open with ease. It creaked loudly, but otherwise gave no sign that we weren't allowed in. Everyone hesitated so I took the initiative and followed after Randy, saying we'd be right back. He looked back at me, so without knowing why, I sent him a comforting smile to which he responded with a confused look before turning back to survey the store.

"Hello?" I called out softly, not seeing anyone behind the counter.

There didn't appear to be much in terms of convenience items but there was a cooler with water bottles and several items on shelves behind the counter that I couldn't quite make out. The room smelled of rotting wood, and the overall effect made this place seem undesirable and it was no wonder the town was barren.

"I didn't see much else in this poor excuse for a town, so we'll have to get the car fixed soon or we might literally starve to death." Randy complained.

"This town used to be more populated you know."

The voice came out of nowhere, startling us and somehow I managed to not scream, but I did jump backwards into Randy's chest and it seemed he defensively wrapped his arms around me. Realizing the dishevelled old woman in front of us wasn't any sort of threat; we separated slightly and took a few steps towards the woman now standing behind the counter.

"It's a tragic story," she gestured to a newspaper article that was framed and hanging on the wall to our left. "Some young, reckless folks came through here many years ago and started a fire in the woods, burned half the town and killed most of its residents. Those few that survived, left knowing the town was never going to recover. We didn't do well before, since we didn't get a lot of people through here prior to the fire. But the disaster destroyed anything we had going for us."

I approached the article and read through it, noting that apparently the founder family had been killed all except a son, who survived the fire with horrible third degree burns.

"That's terrible! It says here that a son of the founder family survived. What happened to him?" I asked, feeling remorse for this kid who not only lost his family, but was scarred for life.

"A family took him in," she spoke elusively, "So what can I do for you folks?" she asked, just as the door opened and the rest of my friends filed into the building, all staring around much like we had.

"Is there a mechanic in town?" Randy asked.

"No sir."

"Hey I could change the tire if I had some tools," Joe announced.

Randy turned to face him, "I could fix it too buddy, be we don't have what we need."

"Well my husband has some tools up at the house, and I'm sure he's got a jack as well," the old woman offered.

"Thank you so much, honestly we really appreciate it," I rushed forward and extended my hand gratefully, "I'm Mickie."

She hesitated but eventually she grasped my hand, "It's my pleasure. I'm Rita."

I swear a tingling sensation coursed through my body, but it was a different sensation than the one I had felt earlier in the gas station bathroom. It was cold, and gave me the chills, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Pulling away, I did my best to maintain the smile on my face as I took a step backwards. She bent over the counter a pen in hand as she drew a bunch of words and scribbles on a dirty piece of paper. After about a minute where we all shuffled around uncomfortably, she finally looked up at us again.

"Now I can't leave the shop," she started and I thought it was weird seeing as how there wasn't really anything to sell not that anyone would be coming around anyway. She said the town had all but cleared out. "But here are the directions up to our house. There's a trail at the back of the shop here and it's the quickest way up. I'll give him a call and let him know you're coming so he can get everything ready."

"Thank you," John said once more, extracting the paper from her as she gave him a once over, not being very subtle about it.

"Thank _you_," she said with a quiet cackle.

John cleared his throat and nodded at her once before leading the way outside. There he led us a little ways over to the left of the door, under a wooden awning out of the heat of the sun.

"Look I'll head up there and get what we need. There's no point in all of us going," he finally said, turning around to survey all of us.

I nodded my head, "I'm going with you then. I don't have a very good feeling about this place, so I'm not letting you go alone."

He seemed to hesitate for a brief moment and I couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want my company or if he was worried about something.

Finally he nodded his head, "Okay let's get going."

"We'll be right back guys, keep checking your cell phone to see if you can pick up a signal," I said just before I started to follow John.

Once more I was stopped as Randy positioned himself in front of me.

"Be careful Mickie," he spoke quietly so it was very likely no one else had heard.

Clenching my teeth and tilting my chin up in defiance, I continued looking up at him for a second before side stepping him and jogging to catch up with John who was waiting and quite obviously had witnessed the encounter with Randy. I didn't know who Randy thought he was, but he had no right to worry about me.

I stopped when I reached John, thinking he was going to say something but I was disappointed when he turned and headed up the trail, directions clutched tightly in his left hand. We walked for about five minutes when finally I couldn't take the silence any longer.

"So you're just going to ignore me this whole time?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"What's going on with you and Orton?" he asked blatantly.

And there it was.

The resentful tone tainting his voice, made me wonder if perhaps he knew something.

"There's _nothing_ going on with me and Randy."

"Doesn't look that way to me," he said, not a hint of emotion to be detected on his face or in his tone.

I rolled my eyes and laughed bitterly, "Well obviously you're imagining things. And even if there was, so what? What do you care? You broke up with me, remember?"

I was so sick and tired of these superstars yanking me around and treating me like garbage. I think from now on it was time to start dating outside the business.

"I didn't break up with you, it was mutual."

"Well, still the question stands. Why do you care?"

He stopped walking so abruptly it took me a few seconds to realize. I turned slowly to face him and found him looking me directly in the eyes for the first time in a long time.

"Because he's my best friend that's why. It'd be a pretty shitty play on your part. Of course considering its Randy, I doubt you'd mean much to him except a _decent_ night in bed."

I prayed to god that the color and warmth in my cheeks didn't give me away. He had unknowingly or perhaps on purpose, made me feel like a piece of trash.

"What the fuck is your problem?" were the words that burst out of my mouth before I could think properly, and they didn't seem to stop there. "You haven't touched me in months, I can't even remember the last time we had sex let alone kissed, and you've treated me like a stranger until finally we had no choice but to end it. And now all of a sudden you _care_? Screw you John," I swivelled around and continued up the path, not caring whether or not he was following. My act of defiance was short lived however because I couldn't be sure I was heading in the right direction. I slowed my pace and heard that he was still following, and finally he caught up to me.

A couple more minutes passed by in silence, the surroundings still basically the same the entire trip except we were coming up to a row of old, rundown cars that looked as if they had been there for awhile. I found it an odd place for them, but didn't think much of it as I was still very much into our conversation from earlier. The path had veered to the left slightly when I heard John release a sigh.

"I'm sorry Micks, you're right. I had no business asking you that. We may not be dating anymore, but I can't just turn off that part of me that cares for you," he paused for a brief moment before continuing, "I see the way he looks at you sometimes–"

I stopped walking and sat on a tree stump looking off into the distance, "I know, like I'm another conquest. Trust me I don't have any intention of–"

"No that's the thing. He doesn't look at you in the way he looks at the other women. I don't know how to describe it or what it means but it's just– different. Like you mean something more, but in the last ten years that I've known the guy I haven't seen him serious about anyone. So just be careful Mickie, he's a player. That's what he does."

I ran my hand through my hair, and looked down at my boots that had a thin layer of dust on them. I had no idea what John had meant, or what he was trying to say, but it was clear to me that both of us were puzzled by Randy's recent actions towards me. I don't know why I said the next words that I did, but they came out of my mouth as if something inside me knew they needed to be said, if only to comfort the man in front of me.

"I have no intention of getting mixed up with Randy Orton. I'm sure this is just a game to him."

I decided that since we were taking a break, I may as well check my phone again. Pulling it out I was relieved and even more surprised that I had a couple bars. Waving my phone at John with a grin on my face, I scrolled down in my contacts and found the number for WWE Headquarters. After waiting a few minutes, they finally patched me through to Vince McMahon, who was no doubt at the next venue.

He was pissed, and that was putting it mildly. At one point I almost handed the phone to John, his golden boy, but said superstar pretended he was busy surveying something in the distance. Vince complained that we never should have decided to go on this stupid road trip if we weren't sure we were going to be back in time. I told him we still had a day and a half, and that this phone call was merely a warning. I told him where we were, or the general area anyway considering this town probably wasn't on any map, and he threatened that if we weren't back in time we'd all be in a heap of trouble.

After hanging up, I looked up at John, "Nice pretending you are busy, staring at nothing."

"Vince has a soft spot for you ladies," he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.

"He has a soft spot for you, his _golden_ boy," I teased, "The poster boy of his beloved company," I said dramatically, throwing in a few hand gestures for effect.

He merely chuckled, "Come on; let's get moving so we can get the hell out of here." He extended his hand and I grasped it so he could pull me to my feet.

"I have never agreed with you more."

"Yes, Mickie James certainly doesn't belong in a place like this," he laughed again, directing me in the right way.

"No Cena, I certainly do not!"

"It's nice to know we can still be civil. I'll always care for you Mickie. I think we were just meant to be friends."

Nodding my head once more I linked my arm with his, "Agreed Cena, you always were a better friend than a boyfriend!" I teased, winking at him.

"Oh is that so?" he turned to look at me, a mischievous look on his face.

I nodded my head, "Yeah. So I was thinking, since I just had to talk to a pissed off, red in the face Vince, you're telling everyone we broke up."

"No way, that's not fair!"

"Oh it's more than fair, have fun!" I said with a giggle before stopping dead in my tracks when I witnessed the house in the near distance.

I gasped at the run down look it had, not thinking it was possible to be worse than the convenience store where we had left our friends, but it was. It was foreboding and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If I didn't know any better I would say this house had been abandoned for years. There were broken windows, the paint was beyond faded and apart from the grass every other plant life present appeared to be dead.

"Shit, that's one creepy ass house," John replied, finally catching up to me, panting slightly but in otherwise good condition. The shade that the trees had provided on the walk here had been very refreshing compared to the walk to this town.

I looked over at him, with a sly grin on my face, "What did you expect? A white mansion with pillars and complete with a picket fence?"

"No more like a white mansion with pillars and a stone wall with guards patrolling the top and a moat with crocodiles," he smiled that dimpled smile that you couldn't help but love.

"Come on you dork, let's go," I started walking, leading the way up to the front porch of the house, the feeling to run grew with each step I made, but I knew that if we didn't do this, we wouldn't have anywhere to run except to a car with a flat tire and no way to fix it.

Finally reaching the door after what felt like an eternity of dread, it took me a few moments to talk myself into it, but finally I knocked three times. We stood there in silence, John offering me a comforting smile once or twice until finally the door was pulled open and a man who appeared to be in his late sixties appeared behind a screen door. His greying hair was thinning, leaving bald patches mostly at the top, his face had a weathered look about it, and he had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"You'se must be the out of towners my wife sent up here," he stated, his voice had a gravelly sound to it.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the smell of smoke that burned my nostrils, "Yes sir we really appreciate the help."

"I'm gonna need some help, the stuff is in the back room here."

"Of course," I said, composing a smile on my face.

John and I both set forward as he opened the door, but he put his arm out to stop us," Only one of you'se. My wife tends to be much too trusting, but I trust strangers about as far as I can toss them."

"That's funny I follow the same–"

I cut John off instantly, "I'll go, we'll be right out John," I insisted, grasping his hand and squeezing it tightly.

The man watched this action, a look of interest in his eyes, "Come on. I don't got all day."

With one last smile at John, I entered into the house and went in the direction he pointed me. It was hard not to be creeped out by the state of the house, but I guess considering the couple I shouldn't be surprised. The house, much like the store, smelled of decay except much more strongly. There was a thick layer of dust on just about everything and the house in general didn't appear to ever have been cleaned. Every so often I caught a glimpse of bugs, and once or twice cockroaches, skittering around on the floor and walls. Instantly I wanted out. I could hear the faint sound of a television, but it didn't serve to make the house more homely in the least.

Turning slightly to make sure he was still following, I had to ignore the fact that his eyes were roaming my backside. It wasn't as if it didn't happen all the time when I was in the ring, right?

"So, I'm Mickie," I said, merely to break the silence as we entered into the room he had gestured to. It was a small room, with nothing but a freezer and closed closet and the things we came for sitting in the middle on the floor.

"Jim," he said gruffly, putting his cigarette out on the wall and flicking it onto the floor, as he gestured to the items. "Where you from?"

He leaned against the freezer and watched me, his eyes once more roaming my body but this time the front, and once again I had to pretend not to notice.

"We're from all over, I– originally I'm from Virginia," I finally answered, "but we're sort of on a road trip from Phoenix heading up to Chicago."

"For what?"

I folded my arms across my chest, growing more uncomfortable with the current situation by the minute, "Just meeting up with some friends."

I don't know why I didn't tell him who I was but I figured it wasn't a good idea to make it public knowledge if they didn't already know me. And plus, I didn't like to brag about being a professional wrestler. The real Mickie James was humble.

"I see."

I cleared my throat, "I should get going, our friends are waiting for us."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, "Oh sorry to inconvenience you by trying to strike up a friendly conversation. I'm _only_ lending you my property," he spoke, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"No, no it's not like that. It's just... we've had a long day and we've got a schedule to keep."

"Yeah, yeah just take it and get out. You better leave this at the store with my wife when you're done with it, or I'll call the cops."

"Of course," I said quietly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude."

"Just get out," he said rudely, turning away to look out the tiny, and only, circular window in the room.

I quickly leaned down to snatch up the small tool box and the car jack, and even quicker I exited the room. I stopped in my tracks when I heard a loud banging coming from behind me. Turning slowly I glanced a door to my left, the opposite of the room I had just left and a feeling of panic came over me. I couldn't place why, but I knew I needed to get the hell out of this house.

Once I stepped back out into the sun and got a breath of fresh air, it was as if a weight had been lifted off of me. It took me only a few seconds to see that John wasn't anywhere in sight.

"John?" I spoke, but received no answer.

Descending the few stairs rapidly, I walked out into the yard.

"John?" I called, once again not receiving an answer.

Worry flooded my body, and I started to panic – something I rarely did. But this place, whatever it was brought out all the worst possible feelings in me. Picking up my pace, my breathing growing heavier with each second, I rushed around the side of the house, all different kinds of scary images swirling around inside my head. I was immediately relieved when I found him standing a distance away from the house, where the grass was knee high.

"John! What are you doing?"

"There was a pig, a damn pig running around," he laughed, "We're certainly not in the city anymore!"

I scowled at him, "You had me worried! Come on let's get back to the others." I couldn't help but smile at the grin on his face; it was something I felt like I hadn't seen in awhile, and I hoped to see more of it in the future.

It happened so fast, it took me a second to process everything. A loud thud sounded in my ears, a sickening piercing sound rang through the air, and John shuddered in front of me. He stumbled forward into me, knocking the equipment out of my hands.

"John?" I whispered, wrapping my arms around him as I staggered under this weight. "John?" I repeated, just as my hand brushed over a warm sticky substance on his back. It was then; I noticed the knife protruding from his back.

"John!" I cried, finally falling under the weight but I managed to hold him in my arms, "John, John hey look at me! Look at me!" I grasped his chin and tilted his head up in my direction, just as he started choking up blood.

I let out a cry of anguish, "Stay with me okay, please John!" I wiped the tears that were running down my face, unable to ignore John's body convulsing. "Fuck! Please don't leave me... I'll go get help!"

Brushing more tears away, I made to get up, but it was in that moment I realized he was no longer shaking, and I watched as the light in his eyes went out, the ghost of his last laugh etched upon his face.

"John!" I howled, "Somebody help me! Please!" I leaned over his body, the tears rushing down my face, as a sign of the agony I was feeling.

This couldn't be happening, John couldn't be dead. Not John Cena, the man I was inseparable from the last two years. My best friend. It was in that moment that I first glimpsed the figure in the distance, the position where the knife had to have come from. Squinting my eyes, a feeling of terror came over me and a sharp scream, so foreign to me, escaped my lips. I used my hands to scoot me backwards, trying to put as much distance between me and whoever it was that had killed John.

This man was unlike anything I had ever seen before. His entire body, or at least all I could see of it, was completely covered in scars, as if he had been burned alive. It was his eyes though that scared me the most; they were filled with anger and hatred. They were dark and terrifying, as if I was looking at death. It was then I realized he had picked up his pace and was heading straight for me, what appeared to be a damn machete in his hand.

"No, no!" I screamed, finally coming back to reality. He had killed John, and it was painfully obvious that he was now coming for me.

_Okay well there you go. I figured I would do a scary type story in honour of Halloween coming up, and am hoping to have it finished by that time because it will only be five or so chapters._ _Please review and let me know what you think. If I should just scrap it, let me know and I'll get rid of it, but if you want more let me know :) This is a warning that more chapters will be a little more gory, so this will be an M rated story for vulgar language and typical horror... ness.  
>Thanks for reading, I really appreciate the support!<em>


	2. He's coming for us

Sorry for the wait, here is the next chapter.

Randy Orton POV 

"Where the hell are they?" Kelly asked, obviously frustrated, as she sat on a crate examining her nails.

We were all on edge, and it wasn't any secret that this town was the reason why. It was rundown, unoccupied and had an eerie feeling to it. We may disagree on just about everything as individuals but collectively as a group we all wanted the same thing – to get out of here as soon as possible.

I ignored her and rolled my eyes in response allowing Mike to answer her, "They've been gone for twenty-five minutes Kelly, give them a break. They probably got lost, which you can hardly blame them for. We're not exactly familiar with the area."

"The old lady said it was a fifteen minute walk. They probably stopped for a little alone time, although from the looks of things I can tell there's some trouble in paradise," Kelly replied and when I looked up I noticed a smug look on her face.

"Mind your own business," I responded, looking off down the road, hoping myself that they would hurry up and get back. I had a bad feeling about this town, and I couldn't wait to put this town in the rear view mirror.

She finally turned her attention on me, narrowing her eyes slightly, "What do you care?"

I released a sigh of frustration, looking over at Mike and Maryse. The former was looking at me waiting to see what I was going to say, and the blonde had her head rested on his shoulder as he held her tightly to his body. Finally I looked at Kelly.

"I don't give a shit Kelly, I just wish you'd shut the hell up. The sound of your voice is grating, and I have a damn headache as it is."

She gasped, insulted by my words and shook her head in disgust, turning her body away from me physically. She jumped slightly when the door was shoved open and the old lady ambled out. I straightened up and the other three jumped to their feet as well.

Rita turned to look at us in surprise, "Oh you're still here?"

"Yeah, our friends haven't come back yet," Maryse said, and looking I could see the carefully composed smile on her face.

Rita smiled, rather unpleasantly, "Oh well I'm sure they'll be back soon. I'm closing up now, business is rather slow today."

I had to resist the urge to scoff, quite positive that we were the only ones who had shown up at this rundown excuse of a gas station in awhile, and we hadn't even bought anything. I couldn't understand her, and whoever else she had stayed behind with. From the looks of things, no one else lived in the area so it made me curious as to why they had continued living here with no neighbouring towns in the near distance.

"Alright well..." Maryse cleared her throat, "It was nice to meet you," she said quietly.

"No my dear, it was _my_ pleasure," she said before rounding the corner opposite where Mickie and John had disappeared, and a few seconds later we heard the starting of an engine and a few moments more and she pulled out into view and disappeared down the road behind us in the direction I imagined their house to be.

"She was one creepy lady. _That_ is the reason I want Mickie and John to hurry up."

I may have regretted almost instantly inviting the blonde Barbie on this road trip, but I had to admit that just this one I agreed with her. The old lady may have been slightly fragile and no threat, but there was just something about her attitude and persona that made me uneasy. A sound in the distance caught my attention and I straightened up and whirled around, realizing it had come from behind the building where John and Mickie had headed a half an hour earlier.

"Did you hear that?" I asked quietly to which the others shook their head.

"Help!"

I heard it again knowing this time I hadn't imagined it and as I looked at the others once more I knew they had heard it too. That was unmistakeably Mickie's voice. Rushing towards the edge of the building, I hadn't even rounded the corner when the brunette in question slammed right into me. She was trembling and when I caught sight of her face, I knew something was wrong instantly.

"No!" she shrieked and started hitting me.

"Mickie," I grunted, "Mick, hey it's me! Are you okay?"

But instantly I knew she wasn't, her shaking didn't seem to diminish and her eyes were tearstained and red. That was when my eyes travelled down. I grasped her hands and noticed immediately that they were stained with blood. However doing a quick inspection of her body, she didn't seem to be injured in any way. Looking over her shoulder, and scanning the area slightly, I observed the fact that John was nowhere in sight. A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me that bad news was on its way.

I swallowed, "Mickie where did this blood come from?"

She started sobbing again, the tears cascading down her face and apart from some mumbling, I couldn't make sense of what they were saying. Mickie pulled away and drew herself up against the wall before collapsing to the ground, shoving her face into her legs, quivering.

"He's coming for us."

I kneeled down in front of her and whispered, "Mickie, what are you talking about? Where is John, is he okay?"

She jolted slightly at the sound of my voice as if she was coming back to reality, "John... John's dead. He was murdered." She finally looked up into my eyes and the fear resting in hers, internally scared me. I heard the others gasp behind me, shocked at the words that had come out of her mouth.

I fell backwards, so I was sitting on the ground, still trying to process her words. It... wasn't possible. John couldn't be dead. My best friend wasn't... but I knew the truth the moment Mickie had said it. Her eyes, filled with pain and terror told me everything that I needed to know.

"What... John's dead? You're kidding right?" Maryse cried out.

"Does she fucking look like she's kidding?" I yelled, jumping to my feet. I started to pace, trying to take all of this in. It all felt so surreal.

"Hey!" Mike said defensively, "There's no need to act like a dick!"

I stopped pacing and swivelled around to face them, "How the fuck am I supposed to act? Mickie comes back covered in blood and tells me my best friend is dead... her boyfriend."

I whispered the last part more to myself, just realizing that this situation was unimaginably awful, but not for anyone more than it was Mickie. Their relationship may have been complicated, but there was no doubt she cared profoundly for him, and she was the one who had to witness it. I rushed forward and knelt down in front of her again, "Mickie, Mickie this is _really_ important. I know this is hard but you have to tell us what happened... Mickie?" I said her name again because she wasn't focusing.

She looked up at me, and my heart went out to her. Despite what our relationship had come to, Mickie was someone I cared deeply for. I never saw her in the same way I saw the other women, and it physically tore at me knowing how much pain she was in. But it was a mirror of my own. John had been my best friend for the last ten years. Ten years worth of memories, matches, on screen rivalries and segments, late drunken nights and conversations that we would no longer have.

She swallowed before speaking, "He came out of nowhere. He, he threw a knife–" she paused, and I knew she was reliving the moment in her mind.

"Who Mickie?" Maryse asked quietly from behind me.

"I– I don't know. He, he had scars all over his body like–" she gasped, placing her hand over her mouth and angling her head to look at me once more, "like he was burned. Randy it's that kid, that kid from the article, the survivor!"

I shook his head, "We don't know that."

"He killed John, Randy. Don't you get that!" she said vigorously, "He killed him right in front of me for no reason at all."

The tears started falling once more, and my body softened as I pulled her into my arms, cradling her against my chest.

"Mickie, I'm sorry," I said softly, "I'm so sorry."

"I hate to break up this little moment, but we need to get the fuck out of here," Kelly hissed.

Feeling the anger surge through me at her insincerity I responded instantly, "How about you shut up and have some respect! She just watched a man she dated for two years, murdered right in front of her!"

"Yeah and that'll be our fate if we don't get out of here!" she shouted back.

I pulled away from Mickie and climbed to my feet, "And where do you suggest we go huh? We have no vehicle in case you've forgotten. So unless you've got some master plan, which I _highly_ doubt, how about you stay quiet and go find a corner to stand in while we adults have a conversation."

"Randy stop," Mickie said softly but firmly as she followed me to her feet.

"You guys," Maryse pleaded, leaving Mike's embrace to approach us, her eyes red and swollen from crying, "We need to do something." Mickie reached out to the blonde and grasped her hands, pulling her in for a hug. The brunette was an amazing woman, even after what she experienced, she was the one comforting her distraught friend.

For the first time since Mickie returned, I felt the Viper in me rise up, and I was angry... no I was pissed right off. "Yeah let's find this bastard and kill him."

"No," Mickie said firmly, "We need to go for help Randy. You don't know this guy," she whispered, releasing Maryse and approaching me, "You didn't see his eyes. He's a murderer Randy, I could tell by one look. He's not going to stop until he gets what he wants. We _need_ help," she insisted strongly.

I looked down at her as she narrowed her eyes, looking around us. "Where's Joe?"

It was in that moment that I realized he wasn't around. Amidst the waiting, worrying and the tragedy, I had completely forgotten about the stranger we had picked up earlier.

"Shit," I said whirling around, "I didn't even notice he was gone."

For five minutes we shouted his name, scouring the area but sticking close to one another just in case there was another attach. There was no way we were risking losing anyone else.

"We need to call the police," Mickie stated, pulling out her phone to check for a signal, "Nothing. Wait, there must be a phone in there," she pointed to the building we were standing in front of.

"She left," Mike was the one to answer her, "Not long before you... came back, said that it was time to close up for the day. She already locked up."

"This is a matter of life and death; we need to get in there. She lives up at that house; she lives with that old man. There's no one else around here, they _have_ to be in on it. Randy?" she whirled around to face me.

I maintained eye contact with her for a few seconds, until finally I nodded my head in agreement. "Okay," I wiped my hand down my face, making an executive decision. "Alright."

I approached the door and tried to pull it open even though I had witnessed the old woman locking up earlier. Scouring the area around me, I found a rock that was almost as big as my hand, and telling everyone to stay back I threw the rock into the window, the shattering of the glass echoing loudly. I reached in through the broken window and unlocked the door, shoving it open so I could enter. We found a phone, but the line was dead. We spent another couple minutes looking for any form of weapon but we found nothing, so we exited the building and stepped back outside.

I was surprised when Joe rounded the corner almost smacking into me. Instantly, letting my anger get the best of me, I grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him up against the wall.

"Where the hell were you?"

"Looking for Mickie and John, I wanted to see if I could help," he explained, "But I got lost and only just found my way back."

I narrowed my eyes, not trust anything that came out of this guy's mouth. I didn't trust him, not before and most certainly not now. For all we knew, he could be working with the ones who were responsible for John's death.

A hand resting on my arm gently caught my attention and I looked into Mickie's eyes, "Randy let him go," she said softly.

I stayed still for a couple seconds until finally I released him, roughly giving him a shove. Joe brushed himself off before surveying the rest of us before his eyes landed on Mickie. "Where's John?" he asked her.

Mickie shifted uncomfortably, looking away as a pained look appeared on her face.

"He's dead," I said blatantly, cutting all the emotion out of my voice. I knew if we were going to get through this, I needed to remain strong and free of emotion; that meant I needed to be the Viper.

"Oh shit. How?"

"He was murdered," I stated, "We need to get the hell out of here."

"Murdered?" Joe exclaimed, "Murdered by who?"

"We don't know," I responded, turning away to survey our surroundings once more to make sure we were still alone, "But we need to go."

"How? Last I checked our vehicle was in the same condition it was when we left it," Joe stated the obvious.

"We'll go for help," Maryse suggested.

"I'll go," I volunteered, "You guys wait here. Maybe someone will drive by. Keep your cell phones out too."

"I'm going with you," Mickie insisted.

I turned to look at the small brunette, and behind the fear in her eyes I saw determination. But I didn't want to put her in danger; it was best for her to stay in a bigger group.

I shook my head, "No Mickie, stay here."

"I'm not letting you go alone," she said stubbornly, folding her arms across her chest. I knew that look; it meant the only way she was staying here was if I tied her down.

Maryse caught my attention when she spoke, "Yeah, Randy I'd feel better if you didn't go alone."

I released a sigh, knowing that I was clearly outnumbered; something I certainly wasn't used to. "Fine let's go. Mike, keep a sharp eye out."

Mike nodded his head, surveying the area for good measure, before picking up a metal object with a sharp end that looked to have been part of a car at some point. With one last look at our friends, Mickie and I set off back down the road that led us to this hell hole. The closest town we figured was back the way we came, but anywhere we got a signal would be good enough. Mickie said she had a signal along that path up to the house and got a call out to Vince, but it was too risky heading back that way; we didn't know who would be waiting for us. After taking several steps, we heard footsteps and turning to look we found that Joe was following us.

"You never know where this guy might be. I'll do what you say. I just want to help," he put his hands up in defence.

I tensed up, ready to tell this guy to stay the hell away from us when Mickie whispered, "Just let him come."

After glaring at the man in question once more, I eventually nodded my head but said nothing as we continued on our way in silence. It was steadily getting darker, even though it was just after six in the evening, and I silently cursed the fact that it was autumn. It was still warm out, but I would take more daylight over the warmth given the current situation. You never knew what was lurking in the darkness, and it put us at a disadvantage.

We had been walking for at least an hour when Mickie surprised me when she reached out and grasped my hand loosely. She seemed unsure at the action, but I gripped her hand more tightly to let her know it was alright. It wasn't in my nature to give up. I was going to do everything in my power to protect my friends.

"Mickie what did this guy look like?" Joe finally broke the silence. He was walking just a few steps behind us, and for a moment I had forgotten he was there.

"I, he was big and had scars all over his body. It was all just a combination of everything that could possibly go wrong. He was terrifying."

"Somehow I don't think he'd be pleased to hear that," Joe responded.

I narrowed my eyes and turned briefly to look at him, "Why the hell do we care? This sick fuck killed our friend."

"Well he was your friend, and Mickie's boyfriend, is that correct?"

I could tell Mickie was uncomfortable at the conversation because she had started shaking again, "No we were... broken up. We just hadn't told our friends yet," she said quietly.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You know," he stopped walking, and when we turned to look back at him, he had a sick, arrogant smile on his face. "I bet you're real happy about this."

"What?" I asked, slowly reaching out and pulling Mickie into my body. The entire mood had changed, and my Viper instincts were slowly kicking in. Gone was the charismatic stranger everyone had taken to, and in its place was the man I had known him to be all along.

"I saw the way you've eyed her up since I joined you. I bet you're glad that muscle head John is out of the way – now you can fuck her anytime you please."

I tensed up once more, the anger at his words getting the best of me, "You better watch your fucking mouth," I said through clenched teeth.

"No, I think _you_ should," Joe said, before brandishing a knife out of the back waist band of his jeans.

"Joe, what are you doing?" Mickie asked him quietly, but the fear showing in her tone.

I wasn't so quick to give him the benefit of the doubt, "I knew it," I hissed, shoving Mickie behind me, "I knew we shouldn't have given you that ride."

"Too bad your friends weren't as smart. Then again, that's not gonna matter much soon because you won't have any."

"No, Mike and Maryse!" Mickie gasped.

I looked down at her, and realized my mistake when Joe lunged at me with the knife. Shoving Mickie to the ground and away from me, I dodged the knife at the last second and connected a punch to his face causing him to falter. The blood from his mouth came almost instantly at the impact, and he laughed as he wiped it away. He pounced once more, this time just barely missing my shoulder. He brought the knife down once again when I didn't have time to recuperate, and I just barely caught his hands in mine, the knife inches away from my chest. I saw movement behind Joe and a second later a sickening thud alerted me to the fact that Mickie had hit Joe on the back of the head. When he crumpled to the ground seconds later, I saw the rock she had in her hand just before it fell to the road.

I grabbed Mickie's hand, not thinking twice and pulled her off the road into the cover of the trees. We needed to get back and check on the status of our friends. It was a stupid idea to split up, that's exactly what he wanted, and if something happened to them it would be on my head.

"You can run, but you can't hide. He'll find you wherever you go! This is _his_ town!" Joe called after us.

His words alarmed me because we had stupidly fallen into their trap. And now we were in the middle of nowhere, cut off from civilization and being hunted by a psychopath for god knows what reasons.

Maryse Ouellet's POV

"This is stupid; we should have gone together. We're safer in a damn group," Kelly hissed, the fear in her voice couldn't be missed. We were all on edge and scared, rightfully so considering John was now dead and who knows what was going to happen next.

Was it a onetime thing? Or were they coming for all of us? And why? What did we do so wrong to deserve this? What did John do wrong? He was a wonderful man, the best person out of all of us. Unless... perhaps they knew who we were. But I don't understand how that could make sense of anything. Why would they want to kill a group of WWE superstars?

"Yeah well there isn't much we can do about it now is there?" Mike said, "The only thing we can do now is wait for them to come back with help. Or that someone happens to drive by."

"Or we can go for help ourselves. Look, Mickie said she got a signal while they headed up to the house and got a call out to Vince. I say we walk up that way, and attempt to get a call for help. I know we all voted against the idea, but we're trapped here anyway. We don't have much of a choice," I reasoned.

"No way. I am not going up there and getting murdered! I'm not having some psychopath carve up my face!" Kelly exclaimed.

"I can't believe you Kelly. John is dead. John _Cena_ is dead. You're so insensitive." We shouldn't have expected anything different. Kelly was still a kid.

"Yeah well there isn't much we can do about it now," she said coldly, mimicking Mike's words from earlier.

I stepped forward and grabbed her hands, "Kelly I know you're terrified. We all are. But we _have_ to do something. We can't let this asshole mess with our family and get away with it."

The tears in her eyes were evident even with the darkening sky, and she sniffed a couple times and nodded her head. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I just... this is just so surreal. I can't believe John is dead Maryse. What kind of person would do this?"

She was sobbing now so I pulled her into me and rubbed her back, the only way I could think of to console her. "I thought staying strong might help, but it hasn't and there's this horrible hole in my chest."

"I know," I said, "I know, but we need to move on. It's what John would have wanted. You know that."

She pulled away and wiped her eyes, nodding her head vigorously. "All right, let's get going."

We walked in silence for only a few minutes, listening for any sounds of danger all around us, but so far it had been rather quiet. Instead of comforting me, it made me more nervous and aware of what was going on around us. We all had our cell phones out, waiting for the moment we would get a signal. But we couldn't be sure we were in the right area let alone heading in the right direction.

"This is useless," Kelly whispered and then turned to look at me, her eyes softening, "I mean it was a good idea 'Ryse, but we don't know where we're going and if we go any further we won't find our way back."

I released a sigh, "Okay well let's get–" I glanced down at my phone and almost jumped for joy when I found some bars, "Wait look, I have a signal!"

They both looked down at their own signals, and we all breathed sighs of relief simultaneously. But before a call could even be placed, everything we feared happened at once. It was Kelly's scream that broke the silence, and I whirled around just in time to see her head collide viciously with the trunk of a tree, sliding to the ground and laying there unmoving.

I couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped my lips when the sight of the man Mickie had described to us earlier came into view. He was horrible looking and scary, and immediately instilled more fear in me by one glance than I had ever felt in my life. He went out of view slightly when Mike forced himself in front of me.

"You stay the hell away from her you bastard!" Mike yelled, just as he attempted to spear Mike with the knife he had in his hand.

A scream escaped my mouth this time, fearing for Mike's life. But he had managed to catch his hands and kick him in the leg, knocking him to the ground.

"Maryse run!"

"I'm not leaving you Mike!" I cried.

"Go! I'll be fine!" he ordered once more, only to turn around and have the knife thrust through the lower right side, just under his ribs.

"No!" I shrieked at the same time that he groaned in pain.

"I can't leave you Mike. I'm sorry..." I whispered as he staggered backwards knocking me over in the process.

"Maryse, please go," he pleaded quietly, his wound weakening him almost immediately.

"It's too late," I whispered back before a surge of pain shot through my head and everything went completely dark.

When I woke up, I couldn't have been certain as to how many minutes had passed. All I was completely sure about was the pounding headache that coursed throughout my head, making me wince anytime I moved. Not that I was able to move very much, because the second thing I observed was that I was tied to a metal pole on the wall with a length of rope, that was painful to my wrists.

The stench from wherever I was burned my nostrils and it was unlike anything I had ever smelled before. The closest comparison I could think of was when Mike forced me to go to a landfill when we were in Ohio so we could visit an Uncle of his.

_Mike._

Memories of everything that had happened came flooding back to me and it took me awhile, but I managed to twist my body around slightly so that I had a good view of the room. It was filled with counters that housed so many different items that I couldn't quite make out in the dim light. In the center of the room was some sort of table, but it was too high up I couldn't see anything from my position on the floor. Closer to me, but across the room was a curtain, one like you would find in a hospital, but it was drawn and I had no idea what could possibly be behind it.

"Mike?" I whispered. "Kelly?"

"Maryse?"

Relief flooded through me instantly when the sound of Mike's voice sounded throughout the room. But I was worried at how weak it sounded, and the state of his injury. He needed medical attention and it scared me knowing that there was no way he was going to get it, at least not on time.

"Yeah, baby it's me. Are you okay?"

He grunted slightly, "Yes I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm fine. Mike don't lie to me, you know I can tell."

I heard him chuckle slightly, "I don't want to worry you."

"Yeah I can appreciate that, but this far into this situation I don't care. You need help Mike..."

Silence for a few seconds, he replied, "It doesn't look like I'm gonna get it. Maryse you're going to be okay. I promise."

Tears pricked my eyes at the meaning behind his words, "I'm not going anywhere without you. You should know that by now."

"I wish you would stop being so damn stubborn. You get the chance to run, you damn well take it. Nothing will make me happier than you making it through this."

"Mike it wasn't supposed to be like this–"

I was cut off by the sound of a door opening and then slamming, followed by what appeared to be someone coming down the stairs. I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips when that monster came into my view and once again I found myself shaking.

"Hey you, leave her alone. You have me, let her go!" Mike half-shouted, but let out a gasp as I'm sure he was in an excruciating amount of pain.

But instead of following his path in my direction he veered to the side and approached the curtain that was drawn. He reached out and pulled it back, and to my horror a loud scream came from behind it. When I squinted my eyes, hoping to see better I realized that it was Kelly, suspended upside down hanging above the floor.

"Please, please don't hurt me!" she pleaded, and let out another blood curdling scream. "Help me!" I could hear sounds that I couldn't quite make out in between Kelly's screams. I couldn't see because he was blocking her from my view, but I knew that he was torturing her.

"Leave her alone!" I screamed, but he merely ignored me.

"Help me! Help! Please stop!" she begged.

I didn't want to hear this anymore. But I couldn't even drown the sound out. Listening as this monster tortured my friends was a fate worse than death. But all I could do was sit there and listen, and no matter how hard I squeezed my eyes shut, it didn't make anything better in the least.

Hearing movement, and noting that Kelly was no longer screaming, merely sobbing, I opened my eyes and almost threw up at the sight in front of me. He had moved out of the way, and Kelly was covered in so much blood, I couldn't make out the source of it. The only thing I knew was that it was her own.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

But before I even had time to process what had happened, he brought the knife down and sliced it across her throat. The screams, I now realized, were no longer coming from Kelly, but from my own mouth. I watched helpless as she writhed in mid air, clutching at her throat as blood spurted everywhere. Finally she was still, and I sat there sobbing at the horror of this situation. I leaned my head up against the wall, weakened by everything that had happened tonight, and just wanting it to be over.

Mickie James POV

"Randy, Randy stop. I need to catch a breath," I insisted, pulling my hand out of his and stopping to lean up against a tree. We had been moving non-stop for the last hour and half, and had we been on the road I probably would have been fine, but we were forced to stick to the forest and that meant stumbling in the dark and climbing over fallen trees. I just wasn't trained for it.

"Okay hey I'm sorry. We just can't be sure if he's following us or not," he said quietly, glancing around our position but the lack of sunlight made it almost impossible to see into the distance. "We can't be far from where we left them. We just have to hope we get there before anyone else. Are you okay to go?"

I remained silent for a moment, pondering his words. We could turn back and run, run away and find help to bring back. But I knew by that time my friends would be dead. Nodding my head firmly, I grabbed his hand and pulled him along, "Let's do this."

At last we cleared the bushes twenty minutes later and continued along the road, not seeing anyone around us, and ran for about five more minutes until we finally reached the gas station we had left almost two hours ago. We scoured the building, but ended up back under that awning, our friends nowhere in sight. My heart beating faster, this time with worry and fear for the welfare of my companions.

"We never should have separated! It's what they wanted!" I exclaimed, running my hands through my hair, pacing frantically.

"Fuck!" he half-shouted, kicking the side of the building not once, but twice, "They set us up – the flat tire, ending up in this shithole. John's dead and god knows what's happened to Mike and Maryse."

"...And Kelly," I whispered.

The blonde and I never got along on the best of days, but never would I have _ever_ wished something like this upon her.

"Yeah, and Kelly. It's my fucking fault she's here!"

I stopped pacing, and approached him, "Randy you can't think like that. If that were the case, this entire situation is my fault. It was my idea–"

"John's dead because some fucked up psycho is trying to play games with us–" he stopped his own pacing and turned back to face me, a look of terror on his face, "I won't lose you Mickie..."

"Randy I–" I took a step forward but caught of flash of movement over Randy's shoulder. "Randy!" I screamed, as the man who was responsible for John's death came stampeding towards us, his machete in his hand.

"Mickie run!" Randy shouted as he bolted forward to hold him off.

I got one last glimpse of him yielding his machete at Randy before I disappeared into the forest, fully realizing I was going in the same general direction of where I knew the house to be. I knew it was risky, but if Randy could get me enough time to get back to the house, perhaps I could find my friends and we could all get the hell out of here. After ten minutes of hustling, I had kept to the trees so it would be harder to track, I finally stopped and headed out onto the path, my surroundings not giving any sign that I was being followed. Fear pumped through my veins, this time for Randy. I knew it was risky for me to have left him, but it was our only chance to save our friends.

I continued at a walking pace disgusted with myself for leaving him behind, when suddenly a sharp pain exploded in my head when I was ripped off my feet and dragged along the ground by my hair.

"No!" I screamed grasping at the hand that held me captive but it didn't budge and the pain intensified.

Looking up I realized I was in the hands of the man I was trying to escape, his machete dangling from his other hand. I kept screaming, as loud as I could hoping that someone would be able to hear, despite knowing deep down inside of me that there was no one left to save me.

_I've been busy lately, no excuse, but I do realize Halloween is coming up so I'll try my best to get the next chapters up faster. I have everything all finished, but the problem is it's all on pen and paper :) So the problem is transferring it all onto the computer. Anyway, I'm going to stop boring you. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, review to find out what happens to Mickie!_


	3. wicked actions

_Be warned, there's some offensive language and some graphic scenes. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I'll make it up to you with the next one :)_

It couldn't end like this; I know it sounded selfish considering John's death but there was so much I wanted to do with my life, so much my friends and I had left to accomplish. This couldn't be real, and yet deep down inside of me I knew this was beyond that. Why? What did we do to deserve this?

I didn't have an answer, but I knew this couldn't be the end. I couldn't just give up, not like this. Despite his firm grip on my hair, I managed to turn my head slightly and reaching out I picked a fallen branch off the ground. Trying to pry his hand off me, I was unsuccessful, so I brought the branch up and whacked it down awkwardly on his arm. Repeating the action once again, a slight scream escaping my lips, he finally released me and I didn't lie there and wait to see what would happen. I was on my feet quicker than I ever thought possible and I was running.

I didn't know where, and at this point I didn't care, but I had to get away. Not having thought ahead, instead of sticking to the path, I barged into the trees and now I had to stop every so often to scramble over fallen trees, and choose which way to go. I only hoped somehow I would make it to a road, but I knew how unlikely that was.

I was surprised that he hadn't yet caught me again, but I knew he hadn't given up, and that meant he was either confident I wasn't going to make it very far, or that he had a plan. I stopped and whirled around, the darkness making it harder for me to see. The moonlight cast shadows all over the forest floor, creating an impossibly more eerie feel.

I was lost. I didn't know where to go and I knew he was going to find me. A new thought coming to me, I dug in my pocket and extracted my cell phone. Pulling it out I almost let out a cry of relief when I found that I had a signal. Ignoring the fact that that meant I was near the house, I dialled the emergency number but before I could even place the call he came at me out of nowhere knocking me to the ground. A screech escaped my lips when I landed on my hand and a sharp pain shot up my arm. Looking down, I saw my little finger on my right hand was bent at an awkward angle. It was the first time I had ever broken a finger and it didn't have anything to do with being in the ring. The irony, even in this moment, was not lost on me.

A light on the ground too far out of reach alerted me as to where my cell phone had dropped, and I knew I had just wasted my last chance for help. He gripped me around the ankle and pulled me along, once again ignoring my protests.

He dragged me along the forest floor for what felt like hours, ignoring me every time I begged him to let me go. I don't know why but it frightened me that I hadn't once heard this man speak. But what tore at me every single minute that passed was the fact that Randy was dead. It was the only way to explain how this murderer had gotten to me. And the anguish at the thought of Randy's lifeless body tore, and clawed at me to the very point that I wished he would just do away with me. It was obvious that my friends were dead – why couldn't they extend me the same courtesy and get it over with.

I had gone limp, no longer struggling because there was no point, and if pulling my dead weight was difficult for him, he showed no sign of it. He didn't slow his pace, or even look down at me, he just continued pulling me along. To be honest by this point, I could no longer feel anything, and for that I was thankful. But by the time he got me to his house the fear in my chest had expanded twofold and I was sobbing uncontrollably at my awaiting fate.

He finally released me on the floor in front of two sets of feet before exiting the room and when I finally got the strength to look up, I found myself looking into two very familiar faces – Rita and Jim. I laid my head back on the ground, weakened by everything I had experienced tonight, but surveyed the room from my position. There was a sofa and a television and various other pieces of furniture that made it obvious I was in their living room. I hadn't enjoyed my first visit to this house, and I had a feeling this one was going to be much more horrible. This building had an awful feeling to it, one that chilled me to my bone when I had entered it earlier. The walls had seen terrible happenings done by its owners, and I knew tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Jim was the first to break the silence, "Awfully pretty ain't she, same as the others. It's as if they stepped off the pages of a magazine."

"So perfect with her fake breasts and who knows what other plastic surgeries. It's unnatural," Rita responded, disdain dripping from her tone, "The kind of thing I've despised my entire life."

Something inside me powered up, perhaps it was my will to live, but deep down I knew it was more profound than that. These monsters had killed my friends; I wasn't going down without a little attitude.

I pushed myself to a sitting position, wiping away the lingering tears, "Why? Because you've looked like _that_ your entire life? I guess I don't blame you–" I just barely felt the sting of the slap that collided with my cheek, a bitter laugh escaping my lips.

"Is that the best you've got?"

"You've certainly put up more of a fight than the others."

The voice was so familiar and when I looked up at the man who stepped into the room, anger surged through my veins at the betrayal.

"You fucking bastard!" I shot up and lunged for Joe, "This is your entire fault!" I hit him in the face with my fist, and dug my nails into his arm until finally he shoved me to the ground in front of the sofa.

He knelt down in front of me, a sick smirk on his face, "You've got some fire in you – I like that."

The spit that landed on his face was a sign of my anger, humiliation and pain. "You fucked with the wrong people. We're public figures you dumb hicks. We go missing, people ask questions. I guess it's just your luck that I talked to my boss a few hours ago and gave him the general area of where we broke down. I bet you never counted on that."

Joe pondered my words for a moment, "You're lying," he said, but I could sense the uncertainty.

I forced a smile on my face, "My name is Mickie James. That first man you killed earlier, behind this house, his name is John Cena. He's the face of a _billion_ dollar corporation. You fucked yourselves over. Go look it up, if you've even heard of the internet."

"You lie!" Jim shouted, jumping to his feet and coming into my line of view. His face was red, clearly bothered at my words.

"You willing to take that risk?" I challenged.

He nodded once at Joe, as the young man exited the room, no doubt to check the truth behind my words. The only good thing that could possibly come out of this was the McMahon's and the rest of the company looking into our disappearance and these psychopaths being taken down.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I looked up at Rita who had a knife in her hand, picking at the dirt under her nails, humming a tune I couldn't quite place. She leaned down in front of me and gestured to my chest.

"How much did those cost you anyhow?" she gestured to my chest.

I clenched my teeth, "More than you'd ever be able to afford," I avoided eye contact, tilting my head up in defiance.

"You think you're better than us?"

A quick movement from her and I was crying out in pain. She had dug the tip of the knife into the right area of my chest, and dragged the tip along creating a huge gash just under my collar bone. Jim was holding my hands so I had no way to defend myself.

"Not so deep dear, we wouldn't want her to bleed out before the fun begins."

Finally it was over, but the fiery sensation was hard to ignore. After Jim released me, I clutched at the area, hoping to stop the bleeding as I breathed heavily, trying my hardest not to show any emotion.

"She's right, she's a professional wrestler. They all are," Joe announced, re-entering the room hastily, a look of fury on his face.

"Son of a bitch," Jim spat at me, "You whore!" he yelled in my face, grabbing a fistful of my hair causing me to cry out in pain just before he slammed my head into the ground.

"What are we gonna do, they'll lead the police right to us!" Rita exclaimed, gesturing wildly and looking back and forth between the two men standing in the room.

"No, not if we clean up well," Jim said thoughtfully.

"You're never going to get away with this," I spoke in between deep gasps, the pain making my eyes water, my vision slightly blurry.

Rita approached me slowly once more, not taking her eyes off my face. "You'd be surprised at what we've gotten away with."

"You're nothing but a bunch of dumb, certifiable rednecks. You shouldn't be worried about how you're going to pull this off as much as you should be worried about checking yourselves into an insane asylum!" I hissed.

She paused mid stride, angling her head and surveying me intently, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "Dumb? I think our little operation here is proof of how smart we really are," she knelt down in front of me once more, "We know people like you. This town, the reason there is nothing left, is because of people like you. All those years ago, those teenagers got drunk in the forest and burned this town down – our family, friends, and the town's history along with it. They ruined our lives, because of their childish ways."

"So you send this psycho to wrangle people up and bring them here so you can play a game of cat and mouse?" I half-shouted.

"Well... it's something new we're trying. We don't usually go looking, but lately we've gotten slightly bored. You see it's become a sport to us. But more than that it's a way to punish the selfish," she explained, and the matter of fact tone to her voice, made me realize just how far gone these people were. They had deluded themselves into thinking they were justified in murdering those strangers who passed through on occasion.

"So you kill people who don't share the same idea of life as you?"

"No, we kill people that think they're better than us; you need to be taught a lesson. _Why_ do you think you're better than us?" she asked softly.

"Maybe because I don't murder people," I spoke angrily through gritted teeth, horrified and angry that she was actually trying to condone their actions.

"We'll see about that," she said, seemingly more to herself than me, before climbing to her feet and turning towards Joe, who was standing in the corner, arms folded across his chest. "Go get the male," she ordered.

I glanced around the room as Joe left, trying to see if there was any way out of this. The windows were always a good shot at escaping but I didn't know for certain that my friends were dead. If they weren't and I ran to save my own neck, they would surely die. My only chance, _their_ only chance was for me to stick this out and hopefully they allowed me to see them and a I was given a chance for me to plot our escape.

The silence in the room gave me time to assess my injuries. My head was throbbing, understandably so considering the damage it had suffered and I knew for certain my little finger was broken. My knees were skinned up, raw and bleeding. But the worst was the laceration across my chest that I couldn't seem to ignore no matter how hard I tried. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt before, including every injury I had suffered throughout my career.

But above and beyond anything else, the worst was the fear that had embedded itself into and become a part of me. Fear not only for myself but for my friends. It pained me that I didn't know where they were or what their fates were – if they were dead or alive.

Hearing a scuffling sound, I looked up and watched as Joe dragged in a bound and gagged Mike Mizanin.

"Mike!" I gasped, trying to crawl across the floor, but was cut off when Joe stepped in front of me. "Oh Mike," I whispered, taking in his appearance.

His face was bloody and bruised; there was a large gash just above his eyebrow as if the area in question had been rammed against the corner of a table or something similar. He clutched his leg and it didn't take me long to notice the bone jutting out and his leg bent at an awkward angle. But it was the knife protruding from his abdomen that triggered the emotion in me once more.

"What did you do to him?" I screamed, "You monsters! What do you want from us?" I looked up at Joe, and then Jim before my eyes finally rested on Rita, "Just let us go!" I pleaded, hoping desperately that they weren't completely heartless and inhumane.

Rita and Jim, one could tell almost instantly that there was something off with them. The look in their eyes scared me the moment I looked into them but it was different with Joe. At first meeting he seemed normal, and innocent. Not once would I have ever guessed that he led this double life.

Which led me to one conclusion, Rita and Jim had lived here their entire lives, that much was obvious, but Joe on the other hand, he had experience in the outside world. It was the reason he had been able to fool us so easily; the reason he had gained our trust almost immediately with his easy going persona. If we had only listened to Randy, perhaps things would have been different.

"Go on," she gestured to Mike, her southern accent as thick as ever, "Check on your friend."

Joe stepped out of my way and I desperately crawled over to the fallen superstar, "Mike, hey look at me." I removed the gag and untied his hands, the other three figures silently watching.

"Mickie?" he croaked.

"Yeah it's me," I brushed away a tear, "How you doing?"

He choked up a bit of blood before he could respond, "Awesome."

I laughed slightly, despite the tears, "You're gonna be okay," I whispered, scanning his body and assessing his leg. He let out a cry of pain when I gently rested my hand on it. "Sorry, sorry. We're gonna get through this," I assured him, the uncertainty obvious to my own ears.

He lifted his head slightly, "No," he breathed in sharply and rested his head on my lap again, "I can't hold on much longer Micks," I could just barely hear what he was saying, "Kelly is dead."

I tilted my head to the side, his words piercing me like a knife, "No..." I whimpered closing my eyes and bowing my head.

I let out a cry of frustration, a symbol of the pain that had consumed me ever since John's death mere hours ago. I was too late. It was my stupid idea to come on this road trip. It was my fault we were in this godforsaken town, and it was my fault that he and Kelly were dead.

"It's not your fault Mickie," he said quietly. His breathing was uneven and every so often he gasped sharply no doubt due to the pain.

"Of course it's my fault," I clutched his hand in mine, "I'm the reason behind this entire thing."

"We all wanted to come Mickie. It's not our fault these people are unbalanced and insane."

"Enough!" Jim ordered and a second later a pair of hands clamped around my arms and dragged me away from Mike despite my protests.

"I'm sorry Mike!" I sobbed, "I'm so sorry!"

"It's not your fault," he choked out, doubling over in pain.

Jim stepped into my line of view, "We didn't bring him out here for you to socialize!" he shouted, grabbing my hair and earning a cry of pain from me.

"Leave her alone!" Mike shouted.

"Do something about it stud. Save your little girlfriend if you have the balls!"

To Mike's credit, considering his current condition, he did his best to try to get to his feet, but he didn't make it very far before he fell into another fit of cries, his injuries slowly breaking him down right in front of us.

Jim laughed maniacally, "That's what I thought tough guy. But let's see how much more you can put up with!"

He ambled over to Mike and in one swift movement he withdrew the knife from Mike's abdomen, the superstar screaming and writhing in agony. He grabbed Mike by the hair and pulled him into a sitting position, ignoring the shrieks of pain, as he looked into my eyes.

"You want to act superior? I'm going to show you what it's like to lose all the people you love. And when I'm through, I'm going to kill you too."

In a lightning quick movement, faster than I thought the old man to be capable of, he seized Mike's hand, spread his fingers out on the floor and he cut off Mike's thumb. Rita had to hold Mike back as he was thrashing around violently. Twice he knocked the old woman backwards, and twice she got right back up and forced him back down. Joe was holding me back despite my best protests, screams escaping my lips as one by one he cut off the other four fingers.

"NO! NO! MIKE!" I flailed around, my fist connecting with Joe's face, not once but twice. I clawed at his face until he wrapped his arms around me, trapping my body against his own.

One look at Mike whimpering on the ground and the fingers lying motionless in a pool of blood, and I was doubled over and vomiting onto the wooden floor. Joe released me, protests of disgust coming from him as he shoved me viciously to the ground. The vomit kept coming, as a sign of everything that I had witnessed tonight – John's death, learning that Kelly was also dead, knowing that Randy was probably right there along with them, coming face to face with a family of serial killers and now this – watching a man I had been friends with for years, a man I had grown to know and love as a member of my family, tortured in front of me like an animal.

"Ugh that's disgusting. You're cleaning that up!" Jim shouted, as I was bowled over when his foot collided with my midsection.

I crawled into the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably once more wondering how someone could be capable of these actions. It sickened me that these people could torture an innocent man for their own sick idea of revenge. Every ounce of fear, anger, sadness and pain, I cried away in that very moment.

Hearing movement next to me, I turned my head slightly to see that Rita had crouched down next to me. "Now dear, you may think we're wicked, but we're gonna give you the opportunity to do your friend here a favour."

Lifting my head slightly, I realized she was holding the knife out to me, Mike's fresh blood still on the blade. "Kill him," she whispered, "Put an end to his pain. Maybe then you'll understand us better. Why we do this, and why we enjoy punishing those for their sinful actions. But maybe you'll also understand that we aren't the bad guys here, we are giving you this opportunity."

"Fuck you! I will _never_ be like you," I spat.

"You wanna live? You'll do what I say!" she raised her voice slightly, but her tone was suggestive of speaking to a child.

"Go ahead and kill me, I don't care anymore."

"Mickie..."

It was Mike who had spoken this time; his voice strained and impossibly weaker sounding. "It's okay. I'm dead anyway. Save yourself."

I looked up at Rita who smiled slightly, unsurprising that she was missing several teeth, and nodded holding the knife out once more, "Go ahead child."

Hesitating for a brief moment, I finally took the knife and slowly crawled over to the fallen Mike Mizanin. Twenty four hours ago, I could never have even in my wildest nightmares imagined him lying here in this bloody heap on the verge of death. But now this was my reality, and I was about to lose another friend.

"It's okay Micks. I'd rather it be you than them."

"You can't ask me to do this," I sobbed.

I saw the tears in his eyes, something I had never seen before from the man lying in front of me, "It hurts Mickie, the pain... unimaginable. Please," he pleaded, "Please Mickie, I need you to do this."

"I can't..."

"Please Mickie!"

"Do it!" Jim screamed from his position next to me.

"No!" I sobbed.

"Do it now!" he screamed again.

All the frustration that had been bubbling finally boiled over and I drew my arm back, looked Mike in the eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry!" before bringing the knife down.

Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but I think that was a good place to end it. The next chapter could quite possibly be the last one, but I haven't quite figured that out for sure yet. Very short story, but there are only so many characters to kill off ;) Anyway, hope you liked it. Please let me know with a review!


	4. reasons

_Here's the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews for the last one. Onwards..._

Jim howled out in pain as the knife cut through the flesh of his thigh and he fell to the ground with a reverberating thud.

"Go fuck yourself," I hissed, feeling but ignoring the satisfaction I had gotten from my actions. Never would I be like them, proud of torturous acts against other human beings.

I picked up Mike's hand, the one that remained unharmed, and held it in comfort while Joe and Rita cowered over the fallen Jim. I didn't move, didn't flinch when I saw Joe approach me out of the corner of my eye and reach out to slap me sideways onto Mike. I looked up in time to see him withdraw a gun from the back of his jeans and aim it at us as Mike whispered into my ear. He didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot drowned out my scream. After a few seconds I realized I didn't have any new sensation of pain and when I looked over the first thing I noticed was the round bullet hole in Mike's forehead.

"Oh Mike, I'm so sorry," I murmured, rolling over so I could cling to his body in a final farewell.

Even though his pain had ended, I still couldn't come to terms with his death despite having just witnessed it.

Rita helped Jim out of the room and his howls disappeared down the hall. I couldn't be sure as to how long I laid there, clutching his lifeless body. It could have been seconds, or minutes, but finally I was pulled off of him and thrown up against the wall nearest the door.

"You just had to be difficult didn't you?" Joe said as he knelt down in front of me, smacking me roughly one more time.

"Why are you keeping me alive? Why can't you just kill me too?" I pleaded.

He hesitated for a moment, looking across the room and when I followed his gaze I found him looking in the direction of the sofa. A few moments after climbing to his feet, he was digging through the drawer of the table next to the sofa before he approached me once more with a picture frame in his hand.

Tossing it into my lap, I sent him a questioning look before looking down at the picture in the frame. A gasp escaped my lips when I looked down at the young woman in the picture. She had long brown hair, that was a few shades darker than mine and brown eyes. She was very pale, but the similarity to me was uncanny. We couldn't have been twins or anything ridiculous like that, but I now understood why I had caught Joe staring at me on more than one occasion earlier today. It wasn't hard to work out who she was. The man next to her in the picture was a younger Joe, a carefree Joe – one that seemed happier.

"The fiance who didn't want to commit I take it," I commented softly.

He snatched the picture out of my hand, "This was taken five years ago. Those stories about living in New York, very much true. You see, I wanted nothing to do with this life, it was the reason I left. I was ready to start a new life... with her," his eyes were on me while he spoke, but he wasn't focused and I knew he was envisioning the woman in the picture, "But one day I found out she didn't want the same thing."

"So you come back and decide to get into the family business?" I said, the judgement clouding my tone.

"No!" he shouted, causing me to flinch, "I didn't want this. This was _her_ fault. She made me this way."

I decided that perhaps this was the break I needed, the opportunity to play to what humanity he had left, "She wouldn't have wanted this for you."

"What do you know?" he spat.

"Because I know what it's like to love someone. You want nothing but the best for them. And this isn't what is best for you. Just let us go, you know that's what she would want."

He remained silent, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I flinched once more when he started to laugh, "Somehow I don't think she would have much to say seeing as how she's lying at the bottom of the New York Harbour."

They had chosen me for last, to watch the rest of my friends die violently all because I reminded him of a woman who had scorned him – a woman that he had murdered because of it. This man had no humanity left, what was the point in trying?

"That..." he gestured to Mike's lifeless body and it took every ounce of strength I had left not to look over at him, "Is because of you. Now if you don't start to cooperate, things are going to get a whole lot worse."

It was in that moment that something in me changed. It was like a switch had been flipped. The tears stopped, the last remnants of my pain and misery dried on my face, and all I felt was rage. Every other emotion blocked out, more than likely due to the shock of it all. My body, I guess, knew it was more than I could handle.

"What more could you possibly do to me?"

"Oh I have _plenty_ of ideas, trust me," he threatened.

I inched my way closer to him, "Go ahead and give it your best shot. In the end we're all going to the same place. If you don't die here tonight, you're just going to spend the rest of your life being some other man's play toy in prison. But something tells me you'd probably enjoy that."

He laughed harshly, before reaching out and striking me once more.

"Is that the best you got?" I egged him on, still unsure as to where my boldness was coming from.

"Jack!" he shouted loudly, "Jack! Get up here!"

I could just faintly hear the sound of stairs being ascended and a door being shoved open until the man who still held the power of fear over me, stepped into the room.

"Take her downstairs!" Joe ordered.

"No, stay the hell away from me you fucking freak!" I shouted, using my hands to scoot me in the opposite direction of the monster standing next to me, but I had nowhere to go.

"You'll have time to play later. Put her downstairs and come back. We need to discuss how we're going to finish this."

The man named Jack, who was much more menacing in the light of the room and in such close proximity, grabbed me harshly by the arm and heaved me out of the room and down the hallway. He pulled open the door I had noticed earlier during my first visit to the house and shoved me inside. I hadn't been prepared for a set of stairs, so I lost my balance and tumbled down them, finally hitting the ground with a violent thud. Hearing the door slam shut above me, I laid there for several seconds wishing that they would just get this over with.

Thoughts of Randy surfaced in my mind, of my friends, family and fans back home that would probably never know what had become of us. I thought of John, Kelly and Mike – and how their lives had been taken from them prematurely for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was in that moment I thought once more of Mike and the last words he had whispered before his life was taken away from him.

_Save Maryse._

Maryse Ouellet, my best friend was alive and I was going to do everything in my power to keep it that way. I had failed her boyfriend, I wasn't about to allow her to suffer the same fate. It was Mike's dying wish, and I was going to make good on it, I just wasn't quite sure on how.

Slowly climbing to my feet, disregarding the protests of my body, I surveyed the room I found myself in. It was rather large, filled with a variety of different shelves that held a hundred different items. Tools, flash lights, keys, broken pieces of things I couldn't even recognize. Taking a few more steps, I glanced around the corner of a shelf and had to stifle a scream at what I found.

John's pale and lifeless body sat slumped up against the wall, dumped there as if he was a piece of trash. I knelt down beside him, a fresh set of tears cascading down my cheeks despite my earlier bravado. This man I loved for two years of my life, the one who had a kind and wonderful heart had his life ripped out from under him all because I insisted on driving instead of flying.

"I'm so sorry John. I'm sorry..." I leaned into him trying to feel his embrace one last time.

But it was cold and wrong and why shouldn't it be? He was dead and he wasn't coming back. A ruffling noise from further into the room caught my attention and after one last look at John, I climbed to my feet unwillingly. Grasping a knife from the counter nearest me, I slowly continued further into the room until I came up to a floor length curtain hanging from the roof. Scared of what I might find, I hesitated before realizing I really had nothing to lose. Counting to three, I took a deep breath and yanked the curtain back finding myself muffling a scream once more.

Kelly, suspended upside down over a large bucket on the ground, had her throat slit. I had to turn away quickly, the nausea coming back almost instantly. I stumbled into the counter, knocking several items to the floor but I didn't have the will to care. Taking a deep breath, and ignoring the dizziness that had enveloped me I whirled around and almost instantly took into sight the blonde woman that I was looking for. Rushing over to her, I dropped down by her side.

"Maryse," I whispered shaking her slightly and breathing a sigh of relief when she opened her eyes.

"Mickie?" she spoke softly.

"Yeah look we have to get out of here. Are you okay to walk?" she nodded her head, as I set to work freeing her from the ropes binding her to the wall.

"He killed her in front of us," I knew she was referring to Kelly, "And then Joe tortured Mike in front of me. Wait..." she fell silent and glanced hastily around the room, "Mike, where's Mike?"

I couldn't look into her eyes knowing what I knew. They had been WWE's _it_ couple, the perfect couple that everyone was envious of. You could tell how much they loved one another in the way they looked at each other – as if nothing else in the world mattered.

I shook my head, "I'm sorry... he's gone."

I hung my head, purposely avoiding her gaze and reflecting upon how many times I had spoken those words in the last several hours. It was beginning to lose any meaning it ever had.

"No," she sobbed, "No..." she put her hand over her mouth and broke down in hysterics.

"Maryse I know what you're going through," I cringed at my words knowing that they weren't completely true. John was someone I had cared about insanely, but the love and bond that we had shared had been nothing in comparison to what Maryse and Mike had. I swallowed before continuing, "but we can't think about it now. I promised Mike I'd do every thing to get you out of here," she was still sobbing and shaking violently, and I knew no matter what I said she wasn't going to recover from this. "Look I'm going to go see if there's a way out, I'll be right back."

She didn't respond or even show any sign that she had heard a word I'd said, but I got up and scoured the room anyway. I walked quickly but cautiously, scared of what I might find in the shadows. It was no secret this was where most of the horrifying things happened. The smell was awful, there really was no way to describe it. It wasn't just mould, it was decay and I almost vomited once more at the realization that it was the smell of death.

I kept the knife out in front of me as I searched for a door, or anything that lead to the outside world, fearful that they would be coming for us at any moment. I rounded a slight corner, and continued on, praying that I would find something. It took me several minutes, but I finally discovered a tiny square window hidden behind a curtain that I knew Maryse and I would be able to squeeze out of, if only just.

I rushed back to Maryse, and had to forcefully pull her to her feet. She was in a sort of daze, so it was difficult to manoeuvre her back to where I knew the window to be. I was strong, but I knew I wouldn't be able to do this alone, so I focused on her and dealt one swift slap across her face.

"Mike's dying wish was for you to be saved Maryse. Don't let his death be in vain."

She seemed surprised by my sudden change of attitude, but she nodded vigorously in understanding and took a deep breath trying to calm herself down. I admired the strength in her. I knew had I not been here she would have given up, but as long as I was around she was going to make it out of this alive.

"Okay," I surveyed our surroundings and took a step back trying to think of the best way to do this. I found a rickety old chair lying on it's side close to where I had found Maryse, and snatching it up I placed it under the window. "You go first. You need to get the window open, and when you do, you get out," I ordered, "If anything happens to me, you run Maryse. You run and don't look back."

She seemed to hesitate for a second, opening her mouth but closing it once more as she surveyed my face. I think she knew there was no point in arguing because it would be a losing battle.

She climbed up onto the wobbly chair awkwardly and fiddled with the window to get it open. It took her several seconds, it appeared to have not been opened in a very long time, but it finally came loose. But to my horror the chair buckled under her weight, and Maryse came crashing to the ground.

I forcefully pulled her to a standing position, "I'll boost you up. Go!" I hissed as she stepped into my cradling hands and I hoisted her up into the window frame.

My heart almost jumped into my throat when I heard movement from upstairs, and I swear I almost had a heart attack right then and there when the door to the basement opened up. But Maryse was out. I picked the knife up I had placed on the floor and tucked it into my boot, and grasped Maryse's outstretched hands so she could pull me up.

"Faster Maryse!" I screamed as I saw Jack running towards me, "Faster!"

I was halfway through when his hands closed around my ankle, and I let out a piercing scream. I used my other foot to kick him as best as I could considering my current position, and after the third try he finally released me and I heard a crash from back in the room. Maryse had let go and I dug my nails into the ground, pulling myself forward. Finally I was through and we were running. I was pulling Maryse along as we darted away from the house towards the surrounding forest. I knew we were heading in the opposite direction of the path we had come on, but at this point my only concern was getting away.

We had just reached the treeline when we were both knocked viciously to the ground. I was immediately surprised when it was Joe's face I looked into.

"Now where are you going in such a hurry?" he climbed on top of me, pinning my arms under his knees. I glanced over to see Maryse lying motionless on the ground.

"Maryse!" I breathed out.

"Oh don't worry, she'll be fine... for now. And don't worry, I told the rest of them up at the house to give us some privacy, so we won't have any interruptions," he was breathing heavy, trying his best to stop me from squirming around. It was difficult to breathe with him sitting on top of me, but he was much to strong for me to manoeuvre my way out alone.

"My dad was right. You certainly are a sight for sore eyes," he said with an evil grin, as his eyes roamed the parts of my body that he wasn't concealing with his own. He leaned down and kissed me, or at least attempted to, but I closed my mouth tightly. He licked his way across my cheek until his mouth was at my ear.

"You know I lived in New York for many years as a single man. The women up there," he breathed in sharply, "Well let's just say they've been lacking in my life lately. So you can imagine my happiness when I found you guys. You and the blondes, fuck, I almost got a hard on when I saw you. I had my way with both of them. Now it's your turn."

"No, please don't..." I begged him, despite knowing that it was pointless.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be _begging_ me to kill you," he whispered as he reached down and unzipped his pants. He climbed backwards releasing my arms, but he gripped them together tightly in one hand while his other worked to undo my shorts.

"Stop, please don't do this!" I cried, fighting my hardest against his grip on me.

"After all that you've put me through tonight, I think you owe me a bit of fun."

His grip loosened slightly and I took my chance and ripped my hand out of his grasp, reached down to my boot and pulled out the knife. I tried to use it, but he caught my hand at the last second and knocked the weapon out of reach.

"The more you fight, the more you turn me on," he said with a sick smile, "I've always liked myself a challenge. You see both your friends sort of disappointed me, but I knew you'd be different," he said just as he pulled my shorts down and slipped his fingers under my panties.

"No!" I screamed loudly, "Help!"

But who was left to help me? He promised me he was going to make my life a living hell before he killed me, and now he was doing just that. It was the smartest plan in the world, break a victim down mentally and you have them beat.

His fun was short lived however, as the knife was suddenly thrust through his chest from behind him. He keeled over to the side and suddenly I was looking into Randy's face just before he pulled me into his arms. The terror combined with the relief that Randy was still alive, came to a breaking point and I found myself sobbing into his chest.

"Sh, sh it's okay, I'm here. You're okay," he soothed me.

"I thought you were dead," I sobbed, clutching at him as if my life depended on it, which I guess ironically it did.

"I know. I'm sorry. I ran in the hopes that freak would follow me, but he went after you. I'm so sorry Mickie. I heard you scream earlier but I couldn't get to you in time, and I didn't know where he had taken you. I've been stumbling around for hours. Finally I heard you screaming. Mickie we need to go, I need you to be strong alright?" he untangled my arms from around him and pulled me to my feet, helping me fix my clothes and make sure I was alright to walk before he approached Maryse.

I stood there, staring into Joe's blank face, going over everything in my mind that he had done to me and to my friends. Finally I heard my name but it sounded so distant, until I looked up and into Randy's concerned face. I knew that if I planned to get through this, I needed to store away everything that had happened in that house and in this spot, or I would surely lose myself. Looking into Randy's face I saw comfort, and in it I saw reality, something to confide and believe in in my time of need.

I watched as he hoisted Maryse up, her body hanging limply, the fall she had taken must have been a lot worse than I imagined.

"Mickie is there anyone else alive? Where's Mike and Kelly?" he asked quietly as if he knew the answer already but wished it weren't true.

"They're dead," I said bluntly, not being able to stop the horrible images that came to mind.

"Shit– I Mickie I'm..." but he was cut off instantly when we heard commotion in the distance near the house, "Come on!" he ordered, "I need your help with her."

My survival instincts kicked in and my trust in Randy alongside it, and I rushed over to throw Maryse's free arm around my neck and my own arm around her waist. We hurried into the trees, as fast as we could manage but it was difficult to navigate not only because we were supporting an unconscious person but also because we had no idea where we were going. We had to stop many times, and reposition ourselves just so we could fit through trees that were growing closely together. I couldn't hear anything behind us, but I knew deep in my gut that he was out there and that sooner or later he _would_ find us.

It was at least another half an hour before the trees started to thin out and we stepped into a rather large clearing. The moonlight helped a lot now that the trees weren't blocking them, and directly ahead of us we found what appeared to be a run down house.

"We can barricade ourselves in until we come up with a plan," I suggested through deep breaths. It was hard to breathe and my lungs felt as if they were about to burst.

I scanned the building, and apart from a window on the top floor and the door, there didn't seem to be very many entry points on the front of it at least. It was a simple house, a wooden one and it looked as if it was over fifty years old.

"Mickie we'll be locking ourselves in."

"I can't go on Randy, I _need_ a break," I spoke shamefully.

I couldn't go on without one. My limbs were sore, and my legs were on the verge of going numb. All the training and exercise I had undergone over the years, failed me in this situation.

He nodded his head, "I understand. Maybe we can wake Maryse up, that way it'll be much easier for us to go on."

It was as if speaking her name had done the trick because before we had even reached the front door, Maryse started coughing violently, before finally opening her eyes with a slight groan.

"Where am I? Somebody help!" she half-screamed but I managed to clamp my hand over her mouth before she could say anything more.

"It's me Ryse, it's Mickie and Randy. You need to be quiet," I informed her to which she nodded her head in understanding before I removed my hand from her mouth.

"Mickie get the door," Randy instructed and without needing to be told twice, I shoved it open and rushed inside.

The place was dark, understandably so and only the moonlight filtering in through the door made it possible for us to get a vague picture of the room. Randy handed me his cell phone, and turning it on we got a better view of our surroundings. The place was run down and dirty, obviously abandoned for many years and had a vile smell to it, much like the house we had just escaped from.

Shuffling behind me caught my attention, and I turned back to face my companions, relieving Randy of Maryse as he rushed around the room. He moved every piece of furniture he could find in front of the door – the sofa, a cushioned chair and a few bits of wooden furniture. Maryse and I were slowly backing away from the door, per Randy's instructions, when we both tripped over something and tumbled backwards onto the wooden floor.

Grunting in pain at the fall I had taken, I was horrified when Maryse let out an ear splitting scream that made all the hair on my body stand on end. I thought that we had been found, but I immediately found out what had caused her reaction. The cause for our fall was the dead body of a woman lying on the floor. I forcibly jumped on Maryse and slapped my hand over her mouth once again to keep her quiet. There was no way that that would have gone unnoticed.

Pulling her away from the body, I helped her into the corner where she sat convulsed once more in sobs, muttering incoherent things every few seconds. My best guess was this experience had finally gotten to her mentally, and no longer was she the carefree, arrogant Maryse I had once known.

Leaving her in the corner after my back rubbing failed to have any soothing effect on her, I climbed to my feet and approached Randy who was standing above the body. I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of her. It was obvious she had been her for awhile, her body had already started to decay but I could tell she had been young – my age or younger.

"We need to get Maryse out of here," I spoke quietly, finally breaking the eerie silence that had taken over this room.

He nodded his head in understanding, "I need to get you both out of here. I promise you Mickie, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe."

"I don't want you to do anything reckless Randy. If you have a chance to run, take it."

He turned to face me, his eyes boring into mine with such intensity. "I won't leave you. Either we leave together or we die together. I've spent much of this last year denying what I really wanted and acting in a way I am ashamed of. I can't leave this earth without trying to make up for everything I've done."

I opened my mouth to reciprocate, although I wasn't sure of how I was going to respond to that, when Maryse spoke up, her words filling the room.

"He's coming for us," she mumbled, "He's going to kill us all. We can't hide from him," she sobbed.

Rushing over to her I knelt down and upon looking into her eyes I knew she wasn't with us. The grief had overtaken her and left behind a shell of the woman that she used to be.

"Ryse, Ryse listen to me. We're going to get through–" but my words were cut short when a pounding against the door startled and shook the small house. It didn't stop, and slowly the furniture was being pushed out of the way.

"He's here," Maryse spoke unemotionally.

Randy skidded over to me and heaved Maryse to her feet, "Upstairs, now!" he hissed, allowing me to lead the way to the stairs as he pulled the blonde along himself. I ascended the stairs as quickly and as quietly as I could, and threw open the first door I came to which was the bathroom. I didn't waste time before moving on to the next and last one. Upon entering it I found it to be a bedroom. Randy pulled Maryse in along with him and passed her off to me before turning back and locking the door behind us before he glanced around the room.

"Closet," he whispered, "You guys get in the closet."

Not thinking twice, I obeyed his orders and helped Maryse into the cramped space alongside myself before I turned my attention on Randy just as he knelt down in front of me. He grasped my hand and placed the knife in it.

"This is if he gets past me Mickie. You fight him with everything you got. Don't ever give up, don't _ever_ stop fighting."

My breathing quickened and I felt the tears prick my eyes, "Randy don't. Let's just run."

His eyes softened, "It was always you Mickie. Even before you and John..." he paused at the name, the guilt unmistakeable in his eyes, "I guess that's part of the reason I became the guy I am now, because I lost you. I refuse to leave this world the arrogant prick I've become. If I'm going down, I'm going down a guy worthy of your love."

And with one last look, he got to his feet and pulled the closet doors closed. I watched through the cracks as he scoured the room and finally pulled a pointed piece of metal off of the bed frame and positioned himself in front of the door. Those few seconds felt like an eternity as I sat there watching Randy pace back and forth anxiously.

I thought that maybe he had given up and thought we had moved on, and was just about to suggest this to Randy when the door burst open and revealed Jack, machete in hand. I clamped my hand over Maryse's mouth once more as she started to whimper again. I didn't blame her – I was watching the man I cared for deeply go toe to toe with a murdering psychopath. But at least Randy got a chance to fight, unlike John, Mike and Kelly who hadn't been given the same opportunity.

"Come on you fucker, it's just me. They're long gone. Now you can pick on someone your own size."

Jack didn't need to be told twice as he charged forward, wielding the machete in Randy's direction.

_Alright another sort of cliff hanger, but I decided this was another good place to end and the next chapter will be the last. Thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, I appreciate it! Please tell me what you think via review. Any guesses on what's going to happen? :)_


	5. this is for my friends

_Okay Okay I realize I failed. This was supposed to be an October thing, and I apologize that it is late. Really I should have no excuses seeing as how it's only five chapters long, BUT I have been busy. Anyway I apologize again... but I have a feeling that you're going to hate me even more by the end of the chapter...  
>Onwards...<em>

Randy's POV

Patience was never one of my strong suits. It was why I got into trouble as often as I did in almost every aspect of my life – career or otherwise. I hated waiting, it was my belief that if I wanted something to take place, I needed to make it happen myself. It was also the reason I found myself pacing this room, waiting for the man who had killed several of my friends, to burst through the door and attempt to do the same to me.

But this was no longer about me; this was about the two women currently hiding in the closet behind me. I was unable to save John or Mike or Kelly, but that wasn't going to happen again. I was going to do everything in my control to make sure Mickie and Maryse made it out of this alive, even if I didn't make it myself.

I was about to pull open the door and see what was going on so I could finally get this over with, when it finally burst open, and the man who was after us entered the room, machete in his hand. It probably would have seemed weird, that I didn't find this surreal in any way but it was in my nature not to see shades of gray. This was my reality, and I was more than prepared to face it.

"Come on you fucker, it's just me. They're long gone. Now you can pick on someone your own size."

He didn't hesitate in the least as he charged at me, the arm with the weapon raised and ready to strike at any moment. He wasn't the only one who was quick however, as I dove out of the way and watched as Jack rammed into an over turned bedside table. I didn't waste any time as I came up behind him, placed the metal bar against his neck and pulled back ramming it into his throat. Hearing the sound of this monster choking and gasping for air, reminded me that underneath his serial killer persona, he was still human.

Despite my attack, he managed to climb to his feet and get a good footing before shuffling backwards and ramming me roughly up against the wall near the doorway several times until I was forced to let go due to the pain. I fell to the floor, the metal bar rolling under the bed. A groan escaped my lips at the pounding in my head, and I watched through hazy eyes as he picked up his machete and swung it around, aiming to impale me through the stomach, but at the very last second, instinct kicked in and I rolled out of the way just in time. I got vertical once more as he wielded his weapon once again, this time just missing my throat by barely an inch.

Taking my opportunity, I connected a punch to his face which to my dismay only seemed to anger him. So I reciprocated the action three more times, but just as rapidly he had me pinned up against the wall, his hand holding me in place by my throat. The loss of oxygen was making my vision cloudy once again, and it was painful, even more so when he tightened his grip on me. I was gasping for air by the time he lifted his weapon once more, drawing it back about to plunge it through my body. No matter how hard I struggled, he was too strong for me and if I wasn't so worried about losing my life, I knew I would have taken it as a blow to my ego.

I watched as the weapon came closer and almost came to terms with my defeat when he released his grip on me, and let out a howl of pain as I fell to the floor. It only took me a few seconds to notice the knife protruding from his shoulder, and Mickie ducking out of the way of his flailing arms. He tripped over the bed and fell backwards onto the floor, shaking the room slightly as he tried to reach back and pull the knife out of his shoulder.

"I thought I told you to stay in the closet," I shouted despite being extremely thankful that she had disobeyed me.

"Yeah as if I was going to sit there and watch him kill you," she responded, hurrying back to the closet and helping the blonde diva to her feet.

This was the break that we needed to get a head start away from this town. Once more we were both supporting the grief-stricken Maryse towards the door, but before we could even step out into the hall, Maryse let out a shrill screech just before she was dragged to the floor. Before either of us could even think, let alone respond, we whirled around just in time to see him plunge the knife into the throat of the French-Canadian.

"NOOO!" Mickie shrieked, attempting to rush back to help her, but I caught her around the waist and pulled her out of the room. She was kicking and screaming, begging me to let her go, but I continued dragging her down the stairs and over top of all the debris that had once barricaded the front door.

"Mickie, there's nothing we can do for her! She's gone. Now we need to run!"

She finally stopped struggling, and allowed me to pull her along back into the trees and away from the house. I knew that we didn't have long before he got vertical, and I cursed myself for not taking the opportunity to finish him off. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was going to come to regret it. I wasn't quite sure how long we ran for, but after what felt like an eternity we burst out of the trees and found ourselves on a paved road, one that didn't look familiar, but again I couldn't be too sure.

Knowing we needed to head west, I took an educated guess, one I hoped was right, and gripped Mickie's hand more tightly before leading the way briskly, sticking to the road to avoid getting lost. At least this way we would see anyone coming at us. After several minutes, Mickie stopped abruptly, falling to the ground convulsed in sobs. I knelt down in front of her, checking our surroundings before focusing off the woman in front of me.

"They're dead Randy," she cried, "All of our friends our dead."

Just by looking into her eyes, I could tell just how much guilt she was carrying around. It was normal, or at least I assumed it was, for a person to feel this way. It's not that I wasn't affected by the deaths of my friends as much as it was that I was built to block out emotions when they would only get in my way. My survival instincts exceeded everything else. But my feelings for Mickie surpassed even that, and I wished there was something I could do to get rid of all of her pain.

"Mickie it's going to be okay, we're going to get through this," I assured her.

"No," she said through clenched teeth, "It's _never _going to be okay. You couldn't even imagine the things they did to Mike right in front of my eyes. Or the way that I found Kelly... or John he didn't even get a chance to defend himself! And Maryse..." she broke down into sobs once more.

I averted my gaze, trying desperately not to think of any of my friends lifeless bodies. Watching Maryse die had been bad enough, I couldn't imagine how Mickie was feeling nor, selfishly so, did I want to.

I took in a deep breath, "We can't bring them back Mickie. But you know what they would want. They would want us to get help so we can bring those bastards down, so that their deaths won't be in vain."

She finally looked up at me, her eyes red and glistening with tears, "I don't know if I want to go on," she whispered.

"Mickie I'm not letting you give up. I promise you that you're getting through this."

A small hint of a smile crossed her lips, "It's nice not to have to be the one in control here. I know it's selfish, but I'm just glad that I'm not alone. I trust you Randy... with my life."

"Good, I stand by my promises," I stopped talking abruptly when a sound in the distance caught my attention.

"What is it?" she asked me.

"Shh," I responded, climbing to my feet and looking over Mickie's shoulder in the direction we had come from.

I got excited when I saw a pair of headlights in the distance, coming around the corner. Mickie followed me to her feet just as I was about to flag down the vehicle, but she placed a hand on my arm to stop me.

"What if it's them?" she whispered, the fear evident in her eyes and in her tone.

"I guess there's only one way to find out," I replied, shoving her behind me slightly and swinging my arms in the air as the truck neared and eventually came to a stop. I peered through the windows and let out a silent breath of relief when I didn't recognize the face of the man behind the wheel.

"Thank god," I breathed out, waiting as he rolled down his window.

"You folks alright?" he asked.

He had a kind face, a look of concern on his features mixed with confusion.

"Please we need your help. Our friends... they were murdered and there are people hunting us," Mickie explained before I could say a word.

The look on his face turned into that of confusion as well as uncertainty, but one look at our unkempt appearances and the blood and dirt that stained Mickie's clothes and he was nodding his head, unlocking the door so we could get in.

"I saw a sign for a town up ahead, maybe we can get some help there," he suggested, hitting the gas and continuing on.

I guess we had walked a lot further than I first thought. I couldn't describe the feeling of relief that I felt that we were finally getting away from that nightmare of a town.

"Every bone in my body is telling me that I should have kept my doors locked and driven away, but it was the look on the young lady's face that told me just how much you needed help," he broke the silence, "So what exactly happened?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering him, "We were on a road trip and we got a flat. We walked to the nearest town for help, but... it was practically deserted and the only family left there was just out for blood."

"Oh my god," he gasped, "I didn't think anything like that ever happened in real life. You said you lost your friends?"

I cleared my throat, "Yes, four of our friends were murdered..." I spoke quietly.

"I'm so sorry," he responded, "Honestly I couldn't imagine what that must feel like. Don't you worry, we'll get some help."

I nodded my head as he offered the both of us a comforting smile. Mickie placed her hand on my shoulder from the back seat, and I grasped it as a form of comfort to both myself and her.

A short amount of time had passed when Mickie squeezed my shoulder harshly, pointing out the window with her other hand. When I looked up to see what she was referring to, I finally noticed the convenience store in the distance. I had led us in the wrong direction and now we were back in the last place we wanted to be.

"No, no, no we have to turn around!" I demanded.

"What do you mean, there ought to be a phone here we can use to call for some help," Bill explained.

"No there isn't, just trust us! Just keep driving," I hissed, and I could tell he was frightened by my change in attitude.

"Randy..." Mickie gasped, and I knew in that moment we were thinking the same thing.

"Who are you?" I demanded, "You're one of them aren't you!"

"I don't know what you are talking about!" he pleaded, a look of fear in his eyes.

"What do you want from us! We aren't stopping here!" I gripped the steering wheel to try and stop him from turning off towards the store.

"You're crazy!" he shouted, pushing me away viciously, "You guys need some serious help!"

He slammed on the breaks putting the car in park and removing the keys, before jumping out of the truck and rushing inside, pulling his coat up over his head to block the rain. The convenience store was lit up inside, unlike how we had left it and I could just make out the figure of Rita indoors.

"We need to get out of here," I stated.

"We can't leave him Randy, you know they'll kill him," Mickie protested, climbing into the driver's seat to face me, "And anyway he has the keys. We need to get in there before something bad happens to him."

"We don't know that he isn't one of them Mickie. I can't risk it," I responded, thinking of the best way to deal with this situation.

On one hand he could be an innocent man, heading unexpectedly into the store of a killer. But on the other hand he could be one of them, and if we go in there, I could be unknowingly leading Mickie to her death.

"But if he isn't we can't risk him getting hurt, I will never–" a sharp scream escaped her lips as I looked back towards the convenience store just in time to see Bill crumple to the floor, clearly having just been shot and killed.

"Fuck!" I shouted, watching as the old woman looked out the window in our direction. "We need to get out of here!" I repeated but the words had just barely left my mouth when the driver's side door was ripped open and Mickie was yanked viciously out of the car by the man we had left back at that abandoned house.

I was out of the truck without thinking twice and I slipped and stumbled my way around the truck, and tackled the man to the ground knocking his weapon out of his hand just as he was about to deliver the last blow to Mickie.

"Leave her alone! Mickie get out of here!" I ordered, dealing punch after punch to this man's face hoping it would weaken him even slightly.

He used his leg to kick me hard in the chest, knocking me viciously to the ground not far from the tree line of the forest. He climbed to his feet, brandishing a knife from the back of his pants before slowly making his way towards me.

"This is what you wanted isn't it? Give it your best shot," I provoked him.

We fought for several more minutes, the dust underneath our feet that had turned to mud because of the rain, making it much more difficult for us to keep our balance. One wrong step and my feet came out from underneath me and I fell harshly to the ground. He towered over me and despite my best efforts, he pulled me to my feet and without hesitation he plunged his knife through my stomach, a searing hot pain shot through my body and I knew this was it. I only hoped Mickie had gotten away.

Mickie's POV

"Leave her alone!" Mickie get out of here!"

I scooted away from the two of them brawling, and slowly got to my feet. I couldn't leave him, but I didn't know what else to do. Before I could even contemplate though, I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head and I fell to the ground once more. Clutching my head I looked up into the face of Rita, who was pointing the barrel of her gun in my face.

"I knew we should have killed you in our living room. Do you have any idea what it's like to lose a child?" she screeched.

"I can't imagine the loss was too great since your son was a sick psychopathic fuck, but considering who raised him I guess that blame is on you," I shouted over the sound of the rain.

Her eyes narrowed, "How dare you speak about–"

I took my chance and kicked her viciously in the shin, knocking her to the ground, the gun falling under the truck, "I'm sick of hearing you speak!"

I tried crawling towards the weapon, but she grabbed hold of my legs and pulled me along through the mud. For someone her age, she was certainly a strong, old broad. Clawing at the ground had no effect, so I flipped myself over and landed a swift kick to her chest knocking her backwards once again. I lunged for the gun just as she dove forwards and the kick of the gun shook me violently and a moment later she fell on top of me, unmoving and quite clearly dead. She was an overweight woman, so it took me several moments to manoeuvre out from under her.

Looking around I found Randy still brawling with Jack, so I took aim and upon having a clear shot I pulled the trigger, the only effect it had was a loud click – the gun was empty. Tossing it aside, I rushed inside the convenience store to dig in the man named Bill's pockets and finally I found the keys for the truck.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, closing his eyelids.

I rushed outside and locked eyes on Randy, just in time to see Jack plunge the knife into Randy's abdomen. A sharp scream escaped my lips as I watched Randy stumble backwards, shocked at the action before falling to the ground. Not thinking twice, I jumped behind the wheel of the truck and brought it to life before I slammed the pedal down to the floor.

I think for the first time tonight, Jack was caught off guard and didn't have time to jump out of the way before the truck slammed into him, pinning his body up against the trunk of a rather large tree. Putting it in reverse, I backed up and just as speedily crashed the truck into the man once more.

He was still moving his upper body though, struggling to get free although I'm quite positive he wouldn't have been able to walk. I jumped out of the truck, slipping in the mud several times before I got vertical.

I rushed over to the fallen Randy and gripped the end of the knife, "I'm so sorry," I murmured before extracting the weapon from his stomach, the howl of pain escaping his lips breaking my heart.

Slowly approaching the man who was one out of the four people responsible for every horrific thing that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, I looked into his eyes and for the first time I felt no morsel of fear.

"My turn," I hissed, bringing the knife up and plunging it into his heart, "_That_ is for John... for Kelly...for Mike... for Maryse and for Randy!"

He let out a grunt of pain, and I watched as several moments later the life in his eyes went out.

I ran a hand through my wet hair, looking around to survey the surroundings merely out of instinct. Turning, I caught sight of Randy and rushed towards him, dropping down by his side. He was convulsing, choking up blood and his wound was bleeding heavily.

"Hey, hey how you doing?"

"Are you okay?" he grunted, hissing slightly due to the pain.

"I'm fine; we need to get you out of here. Keep pressure on the wound," I instructed.

I scrambled to my feet and grasped his free hand, wrapping my arm around his waist before pulling him to a standing position. It took awhile, but I finally managed and supported him into the back seat of the truck, slamming the door behind him before climbing behind the wheel and locking the doors.

One last glance into the tortured and scarred face of Jack and I was reversing and the next second we were on the road, speeding away from the godforsaken town that I knew we would never forget.

"Randy just hang on, I'm going to find us some help!" I informed him, the grunts of pain from the back seat doing nothing to calm my nerves.

I reached back for his free hand and gave it a tight squeeze, "Please stay with me," I spoke softly, glancing back quickly and fully grasping how awful he looked.

He was pale and shaking violently, and I knew that this wasn't going to end well. It was in that moment that I knew he was going to die, and the pain tore at my insides.

"You can't leave me Randy!" I half-shouted, ignoring the tears that welled up in my eyes.

"You're going to be okay Mickie," he said quietly, "You're strong and you'll get through this. There's a reason you survived..."

The tears started falling, "Randy... please..." I begged him, finding it hard to keep my eyes on the road.

"You mean everything to me Mickie. Don't ever forget that, and don't ever feel guilty about surviving this. It's what I set out to achieve," I could just barely understand anything he was saying, but a part of me wished I couldn't.

"Randy, don't! I need you..." I cried, just as his grip on my hand loosened and I knew he was gone.

The aching in my chest deepened, and I found myself wishing that I was alongside my friends. How was this a gift? Watching all those that I love murdered right before my eyes, and then there was me, left to remember this for the rest of my life. I knew this was something I never would get over no matter how hard I tried.

Three Months Later

I awoke abruptly, reliving that night like I did often, always awaking with the image of Randy's lifeless body stuck in my mind. Most days I still couldn't believe what had happened and hoped that it was just a nightmare and I was going to wake up soon and realize that Randy, John, Mike, Maryse and Kelly were still alive. But the other days I felt exactly the way I knew I should feel – barely alive. I was never going to get over this and I was never going to be okay.

I wanted John to know that I didn't blame him for what went wrong in our relationship; it just hadn't been meant to be. I wanted him to have the chance to meet someone who was right for him, someone he could have spent the rest of his life with.

I wanted Mike and Maryse to have had the chance to grow old together and start a family with the love that had consumed their everyday life.

I wanted Kelly to know that I didn't hate her, and I wanted her to have had the chance to live the life I knew she deserved.

And above and beyond that I wanted Randy to be here, to comfort me and to hold me and I wanted him to know that I felt the same way about him that he did me. We never even got a chance to see what could have been between us.

I was startled when I heard a clattering from downstairs, and climbing out of bed slowly I made my way to the door and pulled it open slightly. It was too dark to see anything, so I stepped out into the hallway and gradually made my way down the stairs. I was home alone tonight, having sent my mother home hours before, so I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified – not that it was very difficult to scare me these days.

It didn't take me long to search my house and I was immediately relieved to find that apart from myself, the house appeared to be empty. I grabbed a glass of water and headed back upstairs. I closed my bedroom door, and when I took in the sight of the old man standing behind it, the glass of water slipped out of my hands.

"Did you miss me?" Jim asked with a sick grin.

-|O|-

Dr. Adams watched from the two way mirror, as Mickie James, a patient who had been admitted to his clinic many months ago and also a public figure, thrashed around violently in her bed. She was strapped to the bed, having proved that she was a risk to herself. This had been happening for several months since being found in a town a thousand miles from where she was supposed to be for some sort of event to do with her career.

"Is she going to be okay doc?" one of the new interns asked, a look of concern detected on his face and in his tone.

"Define okay Mr. Williams," the doctor responded, turning away as he flipped through the file in his hands, one he knew word for word, but one he was hoping could give him any indication on how he could help this particular patient.

He had dealt many times with trauma victims, but not once in his career had he come across a case that had affected him as much as this one. She was unstable, the trauma from her recent unknown experiences, had consumed her life and affected her so viciously. The doctor was sure that she was never going to recover.

It was difficult ever having a conversation with her or getting her to talk about what had caused this since she first came to his clinic. She had been found with the dead body of a fellow professional wrestler in the back seat of a vehicle that was not registered in her name or that of any known associates, but any time Randy Orton's name was mentioned she fell into another one of her violent and slightly disturbing fits.

"Is it really necessary to strap her down in the bed?" the intern named Williams asked.

"Yes otherwise she would hurt herself more extensively than she is now," the doctor responded, glancing back at the window to find Mickie had calmed down.

The intern hesitated for a moment as if he didn't know quite how to voice what was on his mind. Finally he took a deep breath and spoke, "Sir, what is it about her that makes you care so much? I mean," he spoke quickly realizing how wrong that had come out, "I've seen you with other patients, and you are great with all of them, but when it comes to her it just seems like there's something more – as if you've become somewhat obsessed with figuring out what happened."

The doctor remained silent, pondering the question and the truth behind his words. The case of Mickie James perplexed him, wanting to know what could have possibly happened to make her a fragile shell of what she once had been.

"Because I've never seen anything like this before," Dr. Adams answered, "And because I have to help her get through this. I _need_ to help her get through this... and soon."

"Why soon?" the younger man asked.

"Because..." the doctor released a weary sigh, "Mickie James is pregnant."

_Yikes, yes that is the end. I hope you enjoyed this story, and PLEASE don't hate me too much. I figured I would try and surprise you as opposed to being my same old predictable, even though predictable is more fun :)  
>Thanks for reading this story, especially to those who reviewed. Hopefully I will have another story up soon!<em>


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